


Two Sides of One Nightmare

by chvotic



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Babysitter Steve Harrington, Bisexual Bill Denbrough, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Crossover, Dramatic, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Will Byers, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad, Shared Trauma, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Violence, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-02-22 01:31:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 42,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13156323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chvotic/pseuds/chvotic
Summary: ---DISCONTINUED---The Gate had been closed.Pennywise was dead.Each group of kids had thought that everything was over, and that they could finally live without the supernatural world resting on their shoulders. One group in Derry, and one group in Hawkins.Though, it all begins all over again on the dull night of February 26th, and two worlds collide.





	1. Doppelgängers

**Author's Note:**

> note that this book is going to stray a lot from the book and movie version of it, and from stranger things, and i'm very aware that this is really bad. but i hope you somewhat enjoy :)
> 
> also richie mistakes max for a he instead of a she, so me writing he wasn't a mistake

_Derry, February 26th_

Something was different with Richie. He didn't know what it was, but he felt off. 

He had gone to Eddie's house because of this, sneaking into his best friend's window and almost scaring him to death in the process, though Eddie had soon forgotten about beating Richie's face in when he saw the expression painted across his friend's said face. Immediately, he became worried, and had asked Richie what was wrong with him. He barely ever saw Richie like this, and when he did, it was very fucking worrying. If you asked the rest of the Losers, they would have agreed.

Richie hadn't answered, sitting down on Eddie's bed and resting his chin on his hands, his elbows on his knees. He didn't know what the feeling was, but it was bad. He felt bad. He felt tired, sick, and overall bad. It was like an old memory had resurfaced, but he couldn't pick it out. He knew he had forced himself to forget things, but he also knew the memories had never truly left his mind. This made him scared, and honestly Richie just wanted to sleep away the pain.

_Sleep it away, and never wake up._

"Richie? What's wrong? You're never quiet." Eddie had said, and Richie forced himself to ignore that harrowing thought that had moved through his mind, choosing to focus on Eddie's words. "Richie, talk to me."

"I feel bad." He forced out, looking back down at his feet. "I don't know why. I feel sick, I'm tired, and everything in my head is just screaming bad, bad, bad, and it won't go away."

_Sleep it away, Richie, and never wake up._

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Richie felt the tears at the corners of his eyes, but he forced them to stay put. It was as though someone else was talking inside of his head, not himself. "You need sleep, Richie. No offense, but you do look dead." Richie forced himself at Eddie's comment, knowing very well that there was no humour left inside of him. "Come on."

With that, Richie let Eddie guide him backwards into the bed, Eddie pulling the covers over his tense form. Richie rolled on his side, facing where Eddie's desk was situated, the bad feeling still present and mind numbing. He felt Eddie pat his head, which didn't fail to make him giggle. He still couldn't feel anything other than bad, but he had to give some reassurance to Eddie, right?

He forced himself to think of a joke he could use to ease the tense situation, but before he could make the gears move inside his head, Eddie was speaking once again.

"I know that face. Save the jokes, Richard, I don't want to hear them. Ever."

Richie smiled weakly. "But you love my jokes."

"Nope."

"Yep."

"Sometimes."

"All the time."

"No, never all the time..." Eddie's voice faded away, and he felt his eyes closing. An overwhelming tired feeling had taken over his body, and he could feel his mind fading out. He let out a small puff of air that he didn't realise he had been holding, and slowly but steadily fell asleep, the last thing he saw being the calm expression painted across his best friend's face.

Next, he woke up. He had expected to see Eddie's room, and Eddie himself sitting at his desk doing whatever he was doing, but this time he was in water. It wasn't deep water, only about a inch off of the ground. He didn't feel wet, either. And when he moved, there was no ripples in the water. Okay, weird.

Richie stood, turning in a big circle, looking up into the pitch black sky. Actually, no, everything was pitch black. Fear was beginning to creep up on Richie like a shadow, burning into his mind as he tried to spot something that wasn't black. Even the water was fucking black.

"Hello?" He screamed out into the abyss, his voice echoing on for a good few seconds. "Anybody out there? Eddie Spaghetti?"

Nothing. Just the sound of his echoing voice. Okay, cool, he was in a endless abyss of nothing. Just fucking perfect. Of course his whacked up brain would cook up something like this to dream about. Though, it didn't feel as though it was a dream.

"Eds? Eddieeee!" He yelled, dragging on the e for some time. He didn't know why exactly he was calling for Eddie. But knowing that Eddie was the last person he saw, maybe he would be able to hear him? Maybe Eddie was here with him? Maybe whoever had snatched him had snatched Eddie too?

Then it hit him. That terrible, bad feeling, full on captivating his chest and causing him to wheeze. He coughed, stumbling a little as he whirled around. It was like someone had knocked the wind out of him, and he wondered that maybe that dick Henry Bowers was in this dark abyss, too. Oh, wait, he was dead. He had fallen down that well in Neibolt. Served the bitch right.

A part of him didn't believe that Bowers was truly dead.

Then, he heard it. Somewhere far in the distance, he heard a laugh. Though, it was a happy laugh. Not something he would expect to hear in a hell dimension like this. So, being the idiot he was, he went towards the sound. He walked endlessly, now noticing that his footsteps were making the tiniest ripples in the water, which somehow spooked him out even more. He ignored it as he got closer to the sounds, and suddenly, Richie was able to make out words between the laughs.

Then, to his great surprise, a boy materialized out of literally nowhere. He stared at the boy in shock, his face showing nothing but happiness. The boy was short, like Eddie, if not shorter. He had a bowl cut, clothes that seemed to big for him, and overall, for some reason, he looked very familiar to Richie. He didn't understand why, though. He had never seen this boy before in his life. 

Richie reached out, but before he could touch the boy on the shoulder to gain his attention, he suddenly jumped out of reach. Though, it was not Richie the boy was moving from, it seemed to be somebody else.

"Lucas! Stop it, it's not fu-funny!" The boy exclaimed, dodging from the invisible force once again. The small stutter reminded him of Bill. "Mike, tell him to stop!"

Mike? He had a friend Mike. What was Mike doing hanging out with this random boy and the invisible force called Lucas? Oh wait, Mike was invisible also.

"Guys? Guys! We still have all these games to play, dipshits, so chill the hell out!" A new voice yelled, and suddenly another boy materialized in front of him. This boy had curly hair, a hat, and no teeth, and seemed to own the lisp with pride. Was this Lucas? "Will!"

"Jesus, calm down Dustin, nobody asked you!" Another boy appeared, a dark skinned boy with a bandanna wrapped around his head. Richie stared at the three boys in amazement, confusion being an understatement. What the actual fuck was going on? "Come on, boys, we don't want to get Lord Dustin angry, do we? Oh, and Max'll be here soon to kick all of our asses, so you better get your game time in before she hogs Dig Dug."

Dustin. Will. Lucas. Max. Mike. Where was Mike? And Max?

"It's my turn, shithead, get out the way!" A new voice. Wait, that was not a new voice. That was his voice. Another boy materialized straight after his voice rang out, and Richie almost fell over from the sheer shock of what he was seeing. It was himself, minus the glasses. He was staring at himself. Him. Himself. Without glasses. Himself.

Was this some alternate universe? Were the Losers not his friends? In this universe, did he have these people as his best friends instead of Bill, Stan, Bev, Ben, Mike, and Eddie? Was Will, Lucas, Dustin, Max and Mike his friends? Speaking of, where the fuck was Mike? If the doppelgänger was himself, who was Mike? And the mysterious Max, too. Where was he?

"Come on Mike, you know that you all skipped my turn!" Hat boy, Dustin, yelled, and Richie the Second turned to look at the other boy. Wait, hold on. 

"No, Dustin." He said, his voice sounding strange. Richie did not talk like that. Richie himself even knew that he was louder.

"Yes, Mike." Dustin replied, sticking his middle finger in Richie the Second's direction. Mike? Was this random, look-alike of himself called Mike? Then where was his Mike?

Richie reached out for Richie the Second, Mike, and tried to grab onto his shoulder. To his surprise, Richie the Second completely vanished. He looked at the other three, whom were still looking in the direction of where Richie the Second had been standing before he disappeared. He moved next to Dustin, and rested his hand on his shoulder. Or, he tried to.

Dustin disappeared in to thin air, just as Richie the Second had. Before he could reach the other two boys, they disappeared. Richie backed away, his body beginning to shake as fear became more dominant of all his other emotions. What the fuck is this? Why is there two of him? Where were the Losers? Who was Max? Where was Eddie?

"Eddie!" He screamed into the abyss, spinning around in continuous circles. "Eddie!"

"Mike? What are you doing here? Why are you wearing glasses?" A new voice. A girl's voice. Richie span in the direction of the voice, screaming out when a girl came into view. She had brown curly hair, a checkered shirt that was way to big for her, and big, wide eyes. "You're meant to be at the arcade."

"I-I'm n-not Mike!" He yelled, cursing himself for stuttering. He sounded like Bill. "Where the fuck am I? Who the fuck are you? Why is there two of me!" He kept screaming, beginning to pace frantically.

"Not Mike?" She asked, tilting her head to the side in some sort of confusion.

"I'm Richie!" He snapped, stopping his pacing snd began to back away as she got closer. "Who is Mike? Why is there two of me? Who the fuck are you?"

"Who are you?" The girl retorted, ignoring all of his questions. "How are you here, and why do you look like Mike?"

"I told you, I'm Richie! I don't know who the fuck Mike is! Where's Eddie? What have you done with him?"

"Eddie?"

"Eddie Kaspbrak! About yay-tall, angry, cute, small, Eddie!" Richie yelled at her, and now she just looked lost.

Then, as the girl went to reply, a loud, sadistic, almost comical laugh erupted over the whole area around them. Richie jumped, spinning around trying to find the source of the sound. The girl was doing the same, confusion now more dominant on her features.

"Beep Beep, Richie." A voice sounded, echoing around him. Chills instantly went down Richie's spine, fear crowding him from all directions as he recognized that voice. "You've always talked too much, R-R-Richie."

"Who is that?" He heard the girl ask him, and he couldn't find it within himself to reply to her. She wouldn't understand, anyways. "Mi- Richie?"

The floor beneath began to shake, and the water began to violently ripple and splash in all directions. Richie fell to the floor, his glasses falling from his face and his vision began to blur. He felt desperately around for them, and when he couldn't find them, he looked around for the girl. She was gone.

"Ah, Richie. What a tasty, tasty snack." It was that voice. That fucking voice. "It's too bad, I can't eat you right up."

Richie turned, and then spotted It. Pennywise. In his blurred vision, he could make out the terrible clown's form, it's vibrant, orange coloured hair, white skin- or makeup, no one would ever know. But even through his limited vision, he was fucking terrified. He could feel the scar on his hand pulsing with pain, almost as if the resurface of all the terrible memories had caused it to hurt once more.

"But guess what, Rich. I've teamed up. They won't let me eat you right here, because we need you. And Mike Wheeler. Wow, Richard Tozier and Michael Wheeler. The two doppelgängers, and maybe even twins, completely unaware of their of each other's existence." Pennywise whispered, his voice even scarier than it had been before. A loud cackle erupted from the clown at the end of his sentence, the sick sound drilling right into Richie's core. He wanted to die. 

"They're strong, Richie. Master is strong. Master has a connection to the Byers boy. Master will conquer, and I will be by his side." It went on, before another loud cackle erupted.

"Wow, Penny, didn't take you as a team player." Richie fearfully retorted, using humour as a way to deflect his fear. He heard some sort of huff from Pennywise, before the horrid clown was surging forwards. Richie screamed, scurrying back in the water as the thundering footsteps made the whole place shake. To Richie's horror, Pennywise grabbed him, yanking him up and off of the floor, his face close to Richie's. Richie could barely see anything, but he knew he was on his deathbed. 

"Tasty, tasty, beautiful fear." Pennywise sneered, a sick humor filling the thing's voice. "I said that to your darling Eddie in Neibolt, remember, dear Rich?"

"Fuck off!"

"Oh, little Eds, such a tasty little snack."

"Shut the fuck up, asshole!"

A yell left Pennywise, before all Richie felt was pain. Pain erupted everywhere in his lower half, loosing feeling to his legs instantly. He glanced down, before his eyes widened in absolute horror. Pennywise was tearing his fucking stomach apart. 

He screamed.

He screamed, and screamed, before everything disappeared and he was flying up and out of Eddie's bed, screaming and crying as he looked around the room. He thrashed, before suddenly someones arms wrapped around him and forced him to stop. He was still screaming, wailing, the whole latter as he pushed at the person's body, terrified that he was still in danger, and that Pennywise was still there and laughing, getting ready to feed on every ounce of fear in Richie's body.

"Rich, Richie! It's me, Eddie!" Richie relaxed instantly, his head shooting up to the familiar sound of Eddie's voice. Richie could see the outlines of Eddie's face through his blurry vision, his glasses nowhere to be found. "It's okay, you're okay, you're fine."

Richie began to sob. He threw his head down into Eddie's shoulder, absolutely bawling. Before he could fully gain his bearings, light was filling the room and the door of Eddie's bedroom was thrown open.

"Eddiebear? Eddie? Is everything- Richard Tozier?" He heard Eddie's mother yell, and he couldn't care less that he got caught. He'd just had his insides ripped out by a sadistic demon clown, he's not going any fucking where.

"Go away, Mommy, we'll talk about this in the morning." He heard Eddie say, and even through Richie's intense trauma, he was surprised that Eddie had spoken to his mother like that.

"Eddie Kasp-"

"Mommy."

With that, silence followed, and Richie decided it was time to voice his dreams.

"P-Pennywise. He's back."


	2. Drawings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> couldn't resist posting another chapter
> 
> i hope this is actually good

_Hawkins, February 27th_

Will Byers didn't feel right. He knew that it was probably just one of those days, like he'd been having since the Mind Flayer had left his body. But today, he felt worse than usual.

He had turned up to school as he usually would, thanking Steve for his ride to school, and had walked into the building with dread coating every cell in his body. Everyone was still looking at him wherever he went, and it all just made him want to move out of the whole town. Hawkins was terrible. He would be forever known as the Boy Who Came Back to Life by the adults, and as Zombie Boy by the kids and teenagers.

He walked through the corridors with his head down, nearing his locker with an increasing speed. Something was definitely off today, and he could feel his mind wandering every time he thought to hard about it. Why did he feel like this? What was wrong with him this time?

Though, amongst all of the bad feelings and fear, Will really felt the need to draw.

Before he could think of finding his friends after gathering his things from his locker, the bell was ringing overhead. Will sighed, dragging himself in the direction of his History classroom. It was a little better since he had that class with Max and Lucas, but he knew Max didn't like him very much. He didn't really understand why, but he'd decided to ignore it.

He sat down in his usual place, pulling out his books without a word. Lucas nor Max had arrived yet. He pulled out his sketchbook from underneath his school books, opening to an empty page and began to draw, finally fulfilling his strong need. He didn't really know who or what he was aiming to draw, but he just let his mind wander as he hung his head low, concentrating on the fine strokes in his drawing.

He looked up when the teacher began to speak, ignoring the stares from the students around him as he slowly put his forearm over whatever he'd been drawing, the pencil clutched in his shaking hand. Why was he nervous? 

"Okay, class, today, you'll be doing an assignment." The teacher spoke up, and Will instantly knew what was coming. "You will be doing this project in partners. And today, for once, I am trusting you to pick your own partners."

Great. Partner work. Nobody ever wanted to work with him, and he knew that Lucas and Max were already working together. Usually, teachers would just place him with another random who had no partner, either.

"Your project will be on any damn town you please. Now off to work."

Will ducked his head, moving his hand back to his drawing. He still took no notice of what he was drawing, concentrating on making the lines perfect as he awaited the person who was going to be forced to partner up with him. He stayed like that for a while, awaiting the person that never came. He looked up after a while, sadness overtaking him that this time, absolutely nobody wanted to be his partner.

He looked over to Lucas and Max, whom were too busy flirting to even notice him. He turned away, catching the eye of another boy in his class. The boy was staring, and looked down quickly when Will met his eye. Will ignored it, turning back to his drawing without a single thought. Everybody stared at him, and this time was no different.

He didn't last long before the teacher was standing in front of him. "Byers, would you like to work by yourself?" She'd asked, and Will was beginning to drown in embarrassment. He only nodded, looking back down. There was no use in trying to get in a trio with anyone, they would only exclude him. "Okay."

She didn't even seem to notice that he was actually drawing, and not working. Showed how little people cared about him. The only people who did care for him was his Mom, Jonathan, Mike, Dustin and even Eleven. He didn't really know about Lucas or Max in current time.

He spent the whole class like that, hunched over his picture. When the bell rang, he decided to take note of what his drawing actually was. Will almost choked when he looked at it, catching the girl sitting on the table beside him's attention.

"Wow, nice drawing Byers." She said, and for a second, he actually thought she had been serious. "Drawing your crush, huh? Always knew you were a queer."

Will turned away from the girl, looking down at the drawing in defeat. It was, in fact, Mike. But he had glasses. Why did he have glasses? Mike hadn't ever worn glasses in his life, why had he added glasses? He was so intrigued in what he had done, he never noticed the tears forming in the corner of his eyes from what the girl had said to him.

He slammed the book closed, gathering all his things and shoving them in his bag. As he made his way out of class, on his quest to find Dustin and Mike, he was stopped by Lucas and Max. He turned, staring at them expectantly.

"Mike has something to tell us. AV room at lunch." Lucas told him, looking rather worried.

Will nodded silently, turning away, forgetting about looking for Mike and Dustin. He would find them at his English class, anyways. If not, he would see them at the AV club.

Lunch came around so fast, Will felt like he hadn't even lived the rest of the day. The drawing was still on the edge of his mind, but he ignored it and slid into the AV room. He was still feeling off, and if anyone even tried to tick him off, he would cry on the spot. Will was not in the mood for anybody's bullshit.

"Hey Will." Mike greeted, a worried edge to his tone. Will smiled weakly at him, standing next to him and clutched onto his backpack straps. Will noticed Eleven was on Mike's other side, and he felt his mood deflate even more.

"Okay, everyone's here." Dustin spoke up, sending a slightly sad look in Will's direction. Yes, Dustin knew. "Now Mike, spill."

"Eleven?" Mike said, turning to his girlfriend. "Tell them what you told me."

She nodded, sitting up straighter slightly in the chair she had sat herself in. She looked spooked, scared, and almost tearful. Will knew the feeling. He was feeling it right that second.

"Last night I was in The Void, checking up on Mama, and I heard someone. They were calling out, and I thought they might have been like me. I knew their voice." Will still wowed at her, as her vocabulary had gotten so much better than when it was the first time he had met her. "I went to the voice, and I heard them yelling for someone called Eddie."

"Eddie? Who is Eddie?" Dustin asked, his voice sounding confused. Will was also confused. What did this have to do with anything?

"I don't know." Eleven replied, seeming puzzled. "But he sounded like Mike."

"Mike? Were you calling for a mysterious Eddie last night?" Max asked, and everyone looked at her for a few seconds before looking back at Eleven. Max huffed. "Sorry, sorry, just a question. Jesus."

"I got closer, and saw all of you. At the arcade, last night." Eleven continued, ignoring Max like everybody else. "There was someone else there, too, but I couldn't see his face. He wore a shirt with.. with.. palm trees?"

The five of them awaited Eleven to continue, and she seemed to be rifling through her memory, while also choosing the correct words to use.

"I heard him again, and he still spoke exactly like Mike. Louder, though. He tried to grab Mike, but he evaporated. I don't think he knew how The Void worked." She finally continued. "He tried to touch Dustin too."

"Why in the shit would they- okay, continue?" Dustin exclaimed, looking baffled. As did the rest of them, and Will knew he would have been wearing the exact expression on his face.

"Then you were all gone, and he was yelling for Eddie again. I called him Mike, and he turned. He was Mike. With glasses." Will almost fainted. "He spoke different. He.. swore a lot, and he was loud."

"He had glasses?" Will suddenly spoke, feeling lightheaded. Of course the supernatural shit would happen with him again. It was always him, ever since the Demogorgan had taken him into the upside down two years ago.

"Yeah. He looked like Mike. He wasn't Mike. He said his name was Richie."

Will threw his bag off his shoulders, accidentally knocking Mike as he did so. He rushed a sorry, yanking at the zip and rifled through the many books in his bag. He knew everyone was watching him with confused expressions, but he couldn't care less. He was on the verge of a breakdown at his new discovery, and he just wanted to go home and draw things that wasn't Mike with glasses.

He finally found his sketchbook, throwing it open and skimmed through the many pages. Finally, he found his most recent drawing and studied it for a second. He then slammed it down on the table, looking up to study his friend's reactions.

"That's him. That's what Not-Mike looked like. Will, how did you-"

"I don't know." Was all he could reply with, watching as Mike picked up his book and studied the drawing.

"It's me. With glasses." Mike said, looking absolutely bewildered. "It's a great drawing though, Will. They always are."

Will had to fight the blush from spreading across his cheeks. This was not the time.

"That's not all that happened. There was this laugh, and it completely spooked.. Richie, out? Right, Eleven?" Mike continued, looking over to his girlfriend. She nodded. "And they said, Beep beep, Richie?" She nodded again.

"It was a clown." Eleven chimed in, looking scared out of her mind.

"Wow, a clown, so scary." Dustin said sarcastically, not seeming to believe anything that was happening. "I think the Upside Down and the Mind Flayer are worse than a measly clown." Will winced at the mention of the Upside Down, feeling those pesky tears well in the corner of his eyes.

"You didn't see it." Eleven snapped, looking angrier by the second. Dustin backed down instantly. "It was.. terrifying. It looked like it wanted to eat Mi- Richie. I left when the ground started shaking."

"Why did you leave?" Max asked, and Eleven pointed her glare at her.

"I was loosing energy." Eleven clapped back, and Max shrugged. "The ground was shaking, and that's never happened before."

"Is he dead?" Lucas asked, and Eleven shrugged. Will looked down at his drawing once again, tracing over the glasses he had drawn over Not-Mike's face. Richie. The name Richie didn't match this face. Mike did.

"It felt bad. The whole thing was different. Something bad is going to happen." Eleven continued, and Will instantly felt put off by the whole thing.

"I've been feeling like that all day." Will whispered, and immediately all attention was focused onto him. "Since I woke up."

He felt Mike's hand slide into his. Will knew it was only a friendly gesture and nothing else, but he still felt the butterflies erupt in his chest, even through everything that was happening.

"We're not letting anything happen to you. Not again." Mike exclaimed, sounding very determined. Will only smiled slightly, squeezing Mike's hand in appreciation. He ignored the stare Dustin was giving him, moving his eyes back to the drawing once again. He couldn't get over how he had drawn the doppelgänger of Mike without even knowing, and Eleven just happened to see him before he supposedly got eaten by some demon clown. Life was just getting weirder and weirder.

"I don't think he is dead, though." Eleven spoke up again, wringing her hands in front of her atop the table. Will watched as Mike rested his other hand on top of Eleven's, having to lean down slightly since she was sitting and he was standing. Will ignored it. "He seemed to know what it was, like he'd seen it before."

"Maybe it's his nightmares or something?" Lucas added in, and Eleven shrugged.

"Maybe, but it seemed like it was more than that."

The group fell silent for a few seconds, and Will had gotten sick of staring at the Not-Mike drawing he had created. He slammed his sketchbook shut, pulling it off of the table and holding it tight in his free hand. He ignored the glances, squeezing Mike's hand a little tighter, nerves slowly becoming more and more annoying. He wanted to cry.

"Bad things are going to happen." Eleven suddenly stated, and everyone looked over at her. "I know it. I can feel it. Something bad is going to happen, and it's going to be worse than last time."

"Worse?" Mike asked, his grip also tightening on Will's hand. Will forced the blush away.

"Worse."


	3. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is really short and shitty I'm sorry but this story is a big fat slow burn I reckon
> 
> btw they're still mistaking max for a boy

_Derry, February 27th_

Richie sat on the log, twiddling his thumbs as the Losers chattered around him. Eddie had called them all here, so Richie could explain, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. They were finally happy, after all of the terrifying things that had happened to them over a year ago.

That happiness was about to be shattered just by that one, goddamned word.

"Hey, Richie, you've been really quiet today. What's wrong?" Mike asked him, smiling.

Mike. Mike Wheeler. Michael Wheeler.

Mike. Mike Hanlon. Michael Hanlon.

Mike, Mike, Mike.

"I- Uh.. I'm fine." Richie stammered, Eddie beside him nudging him slightly. Richie had to tell them, but he couldn't. It had been a year since everything, and everyone had been ignoring the topic since the blood oath. At the thought, he looked at his hand. The scar was still there, and it reminded him of things he would have rather forgotten. It was throbbing, like he had been cut all over again. He knew that it was just all inside of his head.

"No, you're not." Stan chimed in, and now the attention of all his friends was on him. Normally, he wouldn't mind, and he'd be cracking jokes by now. Though, he couldn't find the energy to do it. After that nightmare- or whatever the hell it was, he hadn't been the same. All day, through school, he'd been jittery and paranoid. None of his friends had said anything until then.

Instead of telling himself, he nudged Eddie's leg with his own. He didn't look at anyone, staring down at the grass. He was acting so out of character and he knew it, and so did his friends. He could see Eddie looking at him in the corner of his eye, and he was silently begging Eddie that he would tell for him. He seemed to get the message, and had turned to the rest of their friends.

"Richie had a nightmare last night." Eddie started, and Richie felt his eyebrows crease at the thought. God, he was a wimp. Eddie had told him he heard Richie speaking in his sleep before he woke up screaming, and Richie's eyes were wide and blown when Eddie recited his whole conversation with the girl, along with him calling for Eddie.

"Why was he at your house? Your Mother would have strung you up." Ben asked, slight humour and a knowing tone in his voice. Richie didn't know what Ben thought he knew, so he saved raising his head to meet the boy's eyes.

"He snuck in because he wasn't feeling good. Yes, my Mother strung me up right after Richie went home." Eddie replied, voice calm and steady. Eddie had gained an attitude since the ordeal down in the sewers, and sometimes Richie missed the old Eddie before Pennywise broke his arm and traumatised him for life. "Anyways, he told me he woke up somewhere dark and the ground was covered by water."

Silence. Eddie continued.

"You heard laughter, right, Richie?" Eddie asked him, and all he did was nod. Eddie went off from there. "Four boys, arguing over some game."

"Wuh-what's so suh-strange a-about thuh-that?" Bill asked, his stutter seeming to be worse than usual. 

Richie, with a sudden burst of courage to speak, looked up and cut off Eddie before he even started. "One of them looked exactly like me. Without glasses."

"You mean, identical to you?" Stan asked, meeting Richie's eyes. Stan's looked concerned, but unbelieving. "You mean there's two of you?"

"Yes. Hair, freckles, voice, everything. But no glasses. His voice was mine, but quieter and a little.. a little nicer than mine?" Richie questioned the last bit, earning a few giggles from some of them. Richie had ignored what Stan had said, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. "I tried to touch him, to get any of their attention, but they disappeared into thin air. I got their names, though. Will, Dustin, Lucas and..."

Richie trailed off. Mike. Mike Wheeler, identical to him. Doppelgänger? Twin? 

Pennywise had said the word twin. But that was a dream. Maybe all of this was just a big fucking dream, and he would wake up tomorrow and none of this would have happened.

_Sleep it away, Richie._

"T-There was Max, but he wasn't there yet. He was mentioned." Richie continued, trying to avoid the subject of Mike. Michael Wheeler. Richard Tozier. Doppelgängers. Twins.

"Which one is the one that looks like you?" Mike asked him, and Richie wanted to laugh at the irony. Mike was asking about Mike. "You said there were four boys, and that Max wasn't there yet, and that he was mentioned. Who's the forth boy?"

_Beep beep, Richie._

"Mike. Mike Wheeler. Michael Wheeler." Richie deadpanned, moving his eyes to his constantly fiddling hands. He ignored the voice inside his head. It wasn't real. "His name was Mike."

"So Mike Wheeler is the one who looks like you, without glasses?" Stan asked, and Richie just nodded. "Okay, so you saw someone who looks identical to you. What's so scary about that?"

Silence. Richie didn't want to say anymore. 

_Beep beep, Richie._

"There's more than that, and these are the parts non of you want to hear." Eddie chimed in, and Richie felt his eyes well up. No. Richie will not cry in front of all of his friends. But, he decided that he had to be the one to say it. He couldn't leave the burden on Eddie.

"There was a girl. After they all disappeared, she called me Mike." Richie continued, grateful for the hand that was laid on his knee. Eddie. "I asked her who the actual fuck she was, and that I wasn't Mike, and that I was Richie."

"What is the girl's name?" Mike asked him, his voice soft and calm. Richie almost wanted to get up and hug him for a reason he didn't know.

"I don't know. She never told me." Richie said, before deciding to just get into the gory stuff. "I heard a laugh. That same disgusting laugh that I wished I would never have to hear again."

Everyone fell silent. If a pin dropped, it would be heard. Richie didn't really know if they knew what he was talking about, but he knew that they had some idea.

"Everything was shaking, and I fell, and so did my glasses. I didn't find them after that." Richie went on, feeling the tears once again. He ignored it. "Then he was there. I could see him, through my blindness, but I can't remember anything he had said. Only things about me and this Michael Wheeler. But even that is fuzzy."

"Who is this he?" Ben asked, and that was the question that Richie was dreading. Eddie's hand tightened on his knee, and Richie only felt somewhat comforted. 

"Pennywise." Richie gasped, and didn't let anyone else have a word as he kept talking. "One of the only other things, aside from Michael Wheeler, I remember about Pennywise, was him ripping my insides out. And that's something I'd rather not remember."

Everyone was silent. Richie took this as his time to look up, and he felt a tear go down his cheek as he looked at the expressions on his friend's faces. Mike looked shocked, Stan already had tears running down his cheeks, and had slumped against Bill. Bill looked saddened, most likely by the memories of Georgie. Richie was the one who made him remember the murder of his little brother. Ben wore the same expression as Mike, and Eddie just looked torn. He'd already known, of course, but Richie could tell that he was still shocked.

"I-I'm sorry." Richie stammered, feeling terrible. He'd dropped this bomb on his friends just after they'd all managed to forget, and had been happy. Now, they were going to have to fight Pennywise a year later because of their stupid, fucking blood oath.

"It's not your fault, Richie. How the fuck would any of this be your fault?" Eddie snapped, and Richie just looked down and closed his eyes. He wished that this day would never happen. The day where Pennywise would return and ruin their lives once again.

"We have to call Bev. She needs to know about this." Ben said, and everyone nodded in agreement. 

"We don't know for sure if this is for real. It could just be Richie's nightmares." Richie agreed with that, though he was not convinced. He nodded either way.

"Where is Pennywise? Is he in Derry?" Mike asked, and Richie just shrugged. He couldn't remember anything.

After that, they all just sat in silence. Stan and Bill were curled in on each other, using each other for support. Stan cried, Bill sat in shocked silence, his face stony. Ben was hunched over against one of the other tree logs, his head buried in his arms, face shielded from view. Mike stared into nothing, most likely thinking about how they could find and kill Pennywise for good. Richie and Eddie were huddled, like Stan and Bill, but closer. Richie had ended up in a sobbing fit, breaking the silence. Nobody minded, though. They were all going through the same, shared trauma.

"I'm scared." Richie had gargled somewhere during his fit. "And It feeds on fear."

"Everything is going to be okay." Eddie had whispered, supporting his friend as he went through one of his lowest moments.

Though, there was only more fear and terror yet to come.


	4. Discoveries (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a bit long so i had to split it

_Hawkins, February 28th_

She didn't like this school already.

Beverly was walking down the school corridors for the first time, hands stacked with new books as she tried to remember the directions to the principal's office that a nice student had given her. She didn't like this school. Just by looking at some of the kids, she could tell who the bullies were, who the nerds were, who the loners were. It reminded her of Derry, which brought on an unimaginable feeling of grief at the thought of her friends. She missed them a lot. At least this new school was better than her last.

She had been walking behind a bunch of kids, with four boys and two girls for quite some time, not taking any notice of with who they were or what they were talking about. After another minute of walking behind them, lost, she tuned into their conversation. Their topic of conversation spiked her interest quickly, attempting to tune out the rest of the students who were chattering around them.

"What is this Richie guy's last name?" The boy with the hat asked one of the girls, the one with curly brown hair. He had a lisp. "You're the one who found this guy in The Void or whatever you like to call it, he must have told you a last name."

Richie. It could be any Richie. Not everything revolves around Richie Tozier, as much as he himself thought it did. Richie was back home, in Derry. He was with Bill, Ben, Eddie, Stan and Mike. It would have to be pure coincidence if they were talking about her Richie Tozier, on her very first day at this school. Though, since she was walking behind them, she kept listening in on their conversation.

"I don't know! He didn't tell me." The girl retorted to the hat boy, Dustin. "He never got the chance."

"Okay, then. Will, how did you know what Not-Mike looked like?" Dustin then asked a small boy with a bowl cut, who visibly seemed to tense under the stare from Dustin. "You drew Mike. With glasses."

Okay, glasses. Richie had glasses. But it couldn't possibly be the Richie Tozier. A lot of people were called Richie and had glasses.

"I don't know, Dustin! Like I said, I didn't know what I was drawing okay. It just happened." Bowl cut boy, Will, snapped, his body now seeming tense as they walked. Bev watched the lot of them interact, a little confused. The boy next to Will seemed very familiar to her, but she had too much on her mind to actually look closer and determine what was so familiar about him.

Then, out of the blue, Will tripped. Bev watched in horror as his small body crumbled to the floor, and then it was when she spotted the outstretched foot of a brown haired boy by one of the lockers. They were laughing, and the boy that had seemed so familiar to her was rushing to Will's side. Wait.

"Richie?" Bev gasped, staring down at the boy with no glasses, having stopped mid-step. What on earth was he doing here?

The boy looked up, as did the rest of them, plus the two girls. She looked at them all, and even Will was staring at her with teary eyes. He reminded her of Eddie, though even smaller and way more innocent. Eddie had gained a big mouth since the episode down in the sewers. Even though she didn't really know him before, she could tell he'd changed. Bev then looked to the boy who had tripped him, and sent a rather menacing glare in his direction. He rolled his eyes, scampering away eventually with some other boy with brown hair.

"What did you say?" Dustin asked her, eyes wide. Bev was sure hers were just as wide as she looked down at Richie, whom was staring up at her with a hand resting on Will's shoulder, as if nothing was wrong and out of the ordinary. Why was Richie here, and where was his trademark coke bottle glasses? Richie had never put contacts in. Never. He hated them.

"Richie." She repeated, pointing at him. They all looked shocked, staring at her as though she was some form of alien.

"I'm Mike." Richie spoke, and Bev was surprised to note that his voice wasn't as loud an obnoxious, and was gentle rather than mean. "My name's Mike."

Mike. Like Mike from home?

"But.. Richie?" She stammered, staring at the glasses-less boy in front of her, crouched down on the ground next to his friend. This wasn't Richie. Richie was at home with the rest of her friends. Richie Tozier had glasses. Richie Tozier was loud and obnoxious. Richie Tozier had his best friend Eddie Kaspbrak attached to his hip twenty-four seven. This wasn't Richie.

She knew for a fact that she would be sending Bill a call tonight.

"You know Richie?" Someone else spoke up, and Bev finally tore her gaze from Ri- Mike's hard eyes, and met the soft ones of the brown haired girl's. "What does he look like?"

Bev was bewildered by her question. It was only her first day at this new school, and he had found Richie's doppelgänger? Twin, maybe? Bev turned to Mike, whom was sharing that same expression Richie had worn many times before. Bev pointed to Mike, and she noticed his eyes gradually got wider. His eyes looked small on his face, the glasses not being there to make his eyes look magnified.

Mike had that same, shocked expression Beverly had seen Richie do so many times during everything with Pennywise. Everything was the same. They could have been the same person.

"He looks like you. But with glasses." Bev said, completely and utterly shocked. She was also pretty damn confused.

Will then stood up, beginning to rifle through his bag all of a sudden. Students were streaming around the pack in the middle of the corridor, and there was barely any room in the sides for people to walk through. They all ignored them, focusing on what Will was pulling out of his bag. Bev watched curiously as he flicked through the book he had pulled out, before handing it to Bev on an open page, his hand shaking rapidly. Mike had stood up also, and Bev noticed how Mike was asking if Will was okay. Bev could still see the tears ghosting on his eyelids, which saddened her a little. She could also see the pink blush on Will's cheeks as he looked to Mike.

Oh, how the two of them reminded her of Richie and Eddie.

She looked down at the book, and her eyes almost fell out of her sockets when her gaze rested on the picture in front of her. In front of her eyes, was a picture of her best friend, Richard Tozier. She traced the outlines with her fingers, staring at the hand drawn picture with wide eyes. It was an amazing picture, if she was being honest.

"Richie." She murmured, suddenly feeling as though there was a hole in her chest. She missed her friends. "Who drew this?" She went went on to ask, feeling as if she already knew the answer to her own question.

"I did." Will spoke up, and she didn't miss how he had moved closer to Mike. The Richie look-alike. "I didn't know I was drawing him, I just did. It happens sometimes. Ever since the- yeah, it happens sometimes." Will had cut himself off, the look on his face showing that he had almost said to much. Strange. Will looked familiar to her, though she had no clue why.

"It's Richie. How do you know Richie? And why do you look exactly like him?" She asked, becoming more and more confused by the second. "Who even are you all? This is my first fucking day and everything's already confusing."

"Who are you? How do you know Richie?" The other girl spoke up, the red head like herself. Though, this girl had long hair just like hers used to be. Bev sometimes missed it, but then sometimes, she didn't.

"I'm Bev. Richie is my best friend, from home." Bev informed, eyebrows raising at the group. She still held a stack of books in her hands, and her arms were beginning to feel tired. "Who are all of you?"

"Mike Wheeler." Richie's voice. So calm and gentle. Strange. Yep, she was definitely calling Bill Denborough.

"Will Byers." He'd heard that name before. Had this kid been on TV or something before? 

"Lucas Sinclair."

"Max." No last name? Okay, cool.

"Dustin Henderson."

"Jane Hopper. Or Eleven." Eleven? As in the number?

The bell rang. Bev stared at the group, before finally deciding that she should go, already knowing that this little run in with these people made her late. Before she could turn, Dustin was speaking up. "Can you meet us after school? We need to talk."

She thought about it. They did need to talk. And maybe these people could be her friends while she is here? She nodded. "Okay."

"Front of the school." He confirmed, and she nodded. They all went to turn away, and Bev took one more long glance at Mike, who looked so much like Richie she wanted to scream. She had to be dreaming. The coincidence of it all was just shocking.

With that thought, she continued her path in the direction of the principal's office, running wearily off of the directions she had received at the beginning of the day.

___

And that's where Bev ended up, standing outside the school with her bag on her back waiting for those now familiar faces to come into view. She fiddled with the loose threads on her dress, biting her bottom lip as she waited. She had already thought of completely ditching the strangers, but she wanted answers. She also knew they wanted answers from her, but she didn't know what the hell to say to them. She couldn't just sleep on the fact that there was another Richie, and that there was two of them.

"Aye! Bev!" Bev knew that voice. Wait, that was Dustin. The boy who wore the hat and had no teeth. "Bev!"

She turned, seeing the whole group of them, minus Max, careering down the pathway at such a fast speed Bev felt slightly. threatened. Bev stared at the Richie look-alike as they approached, him staring right back at her. Mike. He didn't seem like a Mike. He looked like a Richie. Though, unlike Richie's eyes, Mike's eyes were now soft, any emotion he was feeling clear as day in his eyes. It was the complete opposite for Richie. He was great at hiding emotions, and most of the time, Eddie is the only one who notices when something is wrong.

"We're going to Mike's." Dustin continued, standing in front of Bev. Her thoughts of Richie were cut off as the the others stopped behind him, the small bowl cut boy, Will, looking rather uneasy. Bev could see Mike glancing down at him every few seconds, and she knew that there was definitely something else going on there. "We're going to make Steve drive us."

"Steve?" Bev asked, eyebrows rising. 

"Yeah. Steve, our friend. He'll be here soon. Where are your parents?"

Bev felt her face harden at the mention of parents. Images of her father came into her mind, mental scars resurfacing that were never going to go away. "Not here. I'm staying with my Aunt."

"Okay. Will she be alright with you staying with your new friends?" Dustin continued, and Beverly almost laughed at the word friends. They weren't friends. Not yet, at least.

"She won't give a fuck where I am." Bev stated, and all of the other kid's eyes seemed to widen. Clearly, they didn't act or speak like her own friends did. She brushed it off, eyes returning to Mike. Richie look-alike.

She pushed past Dustin, and was soon standing directly in front of Mike. Richie.

"You're the same person." She whispered, studying his face. He looked very uncomfortable. "You look exactly the same. Are you blind?"

"What?" Mike asked her, and his voice. He sounded so much like Richie it was fucking scary. 

"Is your sight okay? Do you need glasses?" She asked, knowing very well she sounded stupid. "Richie is as blind as a bat. The best thing to do is steal his glasses. He's not as cocky when he can't see."

Mike stared at her, looking as though he was trying to figure her out. Suddenly, Bev felt the stare of someone else on her, and she moved her eyes to the girl standing beside him. Jane. Or Eleven, whatever her name was. Either way, she was sending Beverly death glares. She looked down slightly, and saw their hands clasped together. Oh, right.

"Don't worry, he's not my type. If he's anything like Richie, I would be running for the hills. Can't deal with two Richie's in my life." Bev reassured, though the glare didn't ease up. "Right."

"What's he like, then?" Bev turned to the voice, eyes focusing on a dark boy. Bev felt bad for having forgotten his name already.

"Loud, obnoxious, rude, the whole package. Has no filter, uses his shitty jokes as a go-to." Bev explained, feeling saddened at the thought of her friend, and then her home back in Derry. Yeah, it might not have been the best, but all her friends were there. "He also loves to use his accents whenever he wants. He loves to torment his own best friend. You remind me of him."

Bev pointed to Will, who just looked at her with wide eyes. He opened his mouth, as if he were going to reply, but was interrupted by the sound of a car horn. She looked to the sound, and saw a boy, in his teens, staring at the group through dark sunglasses. 

"Hey, dickheads, get over here. I'm already late to see Jonathan and Nancy, so let's go! Say goodbye to your new friend!" He was yelling, and Bev soon came to identify that this was the Steve that Dustin had mentioned.

Dustin had taken off as soon as the car horn had blared, and was yelling right back at Steve. The others followed him, and Bev was left standing alone. She didn't really know what to do, so she silently followed the others, staring at the back of Mike's head. This couldn't be real. There was no way that there was two Richie's. No way. They were even the exact same height.

"Steve! We have a change of plans." Dustin had yelled, and Bev tore her eyes away from Mike for a few seconds to see that Steve had lowered his sunglasses, and was currently rolling his eyes intensely. "Take us to Mike's."

"Take you all to Mike's? All of you?" Steve had said, seemingly flabbergasted. She made eye contact with him for a split second, before he looked back to Dustin. "Her too? Who is she? I've never seen her before in my life. Don't tell me there's another one of you I have to drive around now."

"Her name's Bev." Dustin replied, and Bev noted that she hadn't actually told them that her full name was Beverly. "She started here today, and she's coming with us."

"How are all of you going to fit in here?" Steve went on, eyes moving between all of the kids in front of him. "Oh, whatever. I'm late as it is. Get in, we're going to Mike's." Steve had given in so easily, and Bev was slightly surprised. None of her friends back home's parents would ever let them all sit in one car, illegally. Eddie's mother would fire a restraining order against them all if she caught her son riding in a car illegally, let alone being driven by a teenager like Steve.

Though, she was not at home, so she followed them. Somehow, she had ended up squashed next to Mike, which was something that she was really hoping wouldn't happen. It just felt strange. He looked like Richie, spoke like him, yet he wasn't Richie. His name was Mike Wheeler, not Richie Tozier. Another thing that separated the two was their clothing choices. Mike's was a lot less out there than Richie's clothing choices were. 

"I swear, if Hopper sees me with Eleven riding illegally in my car, I'm never going to see the light of day again." Steve was muttering, Dustin snickering in the front seat. Eleven was pretty much sitting on Mike, and Will next to them, half in the middle seat and half in the left seat. Lucas was squished against the door, and Bev recalled watching Dustin force the door closed, and the groans from all of them sounding out loudly when they had all gotten even more squashed. "By the way, where's the other red head?"

"Billy, for once, wanted her to ride with him. I think he's finally going to get the balls to talk to her after what happened at the Byers house last year." Lucas stepped in, and Bev had seen Dustin go to reply, also. He looked a little hurt, closing his mouth and proceeded to look out of the window.

"That dickh- he better not crash the car." Steve was muttering again, and Bev just grimaced.

What had happened at the Byers house?

The thought was forgotten when the car started, and as soon as the thing began to move, Bev felt the arm rest on the door dig into her arm, and she just winced. For a split second, she went to crack a joke to Richie. But, Richie was not here, and instead, Mike was. Fucking weird.

"What's the big thing that has the lot of you spooked? I swear to god if it's something to do with the Upside Down, I will actually cry." Steve spoke louder this time, and the words Upside Down confused Bev to no end. 

"No, we don't think it's the Upside Down this time. Only some doppelgänger and some clown."

Bev almost went into cardiac arrest when she'd heard that one, specific word.

Clown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave some feedback, i would like to know what you think!
> 
> love, hate, constructive criticism, anything!


	5. Discoveries (Part Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't really like this and it's a little short, but oh well

_Hawkins, February 28th_

Bev had sat in that car, shell shocked, as the rest of them chattered on and moved to a different subject, as though nothing was wrong. Clown? Pennywise? No. It couldn't be. But it had to be, Richie was involved. And Richie was included in the Losers Club, that killed Pennywise and swore on a blood oath that if he ever came back, they would come back too. 

She sat like that, silent, until the car came to a stop in front of a large house, which she assumed was Mike's house. Richie's house was a lot smaller than Mike's, which further confirmed that Mike was not secretly Richie. Though, she wished he was. She almost wanted his disgusting jokes, his accents and personas, the constant nicknames he threw in Eddie's face every day.

They all clambered out of the car, Bev not having the energy to worry about her aching arm as she hurriedly followed the rest of them into the house, not even sparing Steve a glance as he yelled goodbye too them. As much as she had seen Steve complain, she could tell he had a soft spot for them. She forgot that thought, replacing it with the need to get to the bottom of things. To call Bill and tell him that she had found Richie's doppelgänger on her first day in her new school.

She followed the new people in her life down into what seemed to be basement, which was filled with couches, toys, games, and a blanket fort. She ignored everything, staring at them all expectantly, waiting for somebody to speak up. Her eyes rested on Will, whom looked as though he was about to bawl his eyes out. Mike, of course, was glued to the bowl cut boy's side, a hand wrapped around his shoulders. Mike and Will. Richie and Eddie.

Mike and Will looked a lot more civilised than Richie and Eddie.

"So, explain. Why do you look like Richie, and how do you know him? And how do you know about the.. the clown?" Bev asked, hands on her hips as she stared at them. Her voice had begun to shake at the end of her sentence, the word clown having come out very forced.

Bev almost didn't want Mike to be the one to reply. Though, of course, he was, and Beverly was forced to listen to the voice that sounded exactly like her best friend. She had figured a while ago that this town wasn't normal, just as Derry wasn't normal. Hawkins seemed to have a secret, and that secret probably had come from the government building planted smack in the middle of the forest. She'd been exploring one day, and had come across it. It looked empty, deserted. She could tell just by looking at it, that there were many secrets being held within that one building.

"Eleven saw Richie." Mike had started, looking unsure of what to say. "He was in The Void with her."

"The Void?" Eleven, Mike and Will all seemed to flinch at once as she repeated the words, and she instantly felt a little bad. Obviously, whatever The Void was had been a soft spot for the latter of them.

"The branch between here, and the Upside Down." Mike continued, and Bev just nodded. She'd heard some strange things, and seen even stranger things, so she wasn't even going to doubt them. "Richie was there. But we don't know why, or how, he got there."

Bev nodded, gesturing for him to go on.

"He saw us, at the arcade. He was calling out for somebody called Eddie, do you know him?" Mike asked, and Bev choked. Literally. "Eleven spoke to him. He knows we exist, but we don't know if he thought it was a dream or not, either."

"He was calling for Eddie? Eddie Kaspbrak?" Bev asked, eyes wide as she stared at the second Richie. Everything was just getting weirder and weirder.

"I don't know-" 

"Yes." Jane, or Eleven, cut him off. "He told me about him."

Bev almost wanted to smile. Richie was always showing off his best friend to people, even if he was in the worst of situations. God, if Richie had seen Pennywise, she could only imagine what her friend was going through right this second. Where was he? Was he with the Losers? Had he told the Losers?

"Who is he?" Mike asked, and Bev turned back to him. 

"He's Richie's best friend."

"I thought you were Richie's best friend?"

"They're closer. Way closer." Bev did smile at that, knowing that there was definitely something more than friendship there, but she also knew that none of them even knew it. They were both as oblivious as each other. Well, maybe Eddie had a clue, but she didn't know for sure.

"Yeah, but that's not the point! Keep talking, Mike!" Dustin snapped, and Bev had almost forgotten the rest of them were there. 

"Sorry. El heard this laugh, which had scared Richie, and a clown appeared?" Mike finished, seeming to want the conversation over as fast as possible. "Is that right?"

"Yes." 

Bev's eyes were wide. "Clown?" She asked, feeling herself go pale and lightheaded, her body beginning to shake. She was hoping that she had misheard in the car. Oh god, how is Richie dealing with this? "Are you sure that it was a clown? Are you sure that it was a clown?"

Eleven nodded. "There's another thing."

"What?"

"The.. clown.. looked like it wanted to eat R-Richie?" Eleven continued, almost questioning herself. Bev's eyes widened. "I don't know what happened, though, I left."

"Is he still alive?" Bev exclaimed, beginning to feel herself become hysterical. If Richie was dead, she didn't know what she'd do.

"We don't know." Mike spoke, and Bev just looked at him. It was like Richie was looking at her, but she knew it was a totally, different person that went by the name of Mike. 

"Are you one hundred percent sure that you saw a clown?" Bev asked again, not wanting to believe the reality of the situation.

Will made some sort of strangled noise, and all eyes were turned to him before anybody could answer her. She noticed that he now clutched the same sketchbook in his hands, and she could see that he was holding it so tight that his knuckles were white. He was crying. Why was he crying? 

"Do you want to show Bev, Will?" Mike had asked him, his voice quiet and soft. Richie had never, ever sounded like that in the single year Beverly had known him, and it was so strange to hear his voice so calm and gentle. 

Will had nodded, slowly opening the book and skimmed through the pages. Bev caught glimpses of many drawings, spotting Richie's face somewhere in the middle. Though, there was no glasses. Different drawing. That drawing must have been a picture of Mike. Cute.

When Will stopped and handed the book to her, she almost dropped it. She yanked it out of his hand, a little too hard, pulling the picture close to her face. Taking up most of the picture, was a large, monster looking figure, it's large legs filling the majority of the page. Behind it, splotches of red resembled some sort of electrical storm. Down underneath the figure, in one of the spaces, stood Pennywise. 

Bev stared, horrified, her finger tracing over the small drawing of Pennywise as she had done with the picture of Richie. The little Pennywise was holding a balloon. A fucking red balloon, and she could see the faint writing that said, I <3 (heart) Derry in small text. It looked exactly like Pennywise, and Bev was surprised at how well Will could draw.

"What is this?" She asked, finger landing on the large monster above Pennywise. Will seemed to stiffen, immediately moving into Mike's side, his head disappearing into his neck. This kid must have been through a lot of shit, and this monster looking thing must have been the source of it. Nightmares? Real events? Mental illness?

"That's the Mind Flayer. Possessed Will last year, after El had opened The Gate. And the year before last, Will went missing in the Upside Down for a week." Dustin explained, and Bev looked at the small boy. As confusing, and unrealistic it sounded, she knew it was true. She'd been through some pretty unrealistic things, too. And then it clicked. Will Byers. The boy who came back from the dead, those two years ago. She had remembered seeing his face in the news papers. Why hadn't she realised sooner?

"Is this gate still open?" Bev asked, gently placing the sketchbook in Will's lap. She couldn't stand to look at it any longer. "Is that thing still here?"

"No, El closed it last year. It's still there, but in the Upside Down." Lucas answered this time, his face stony and expressionless. "What does the clown have to do with you?"

"It murdered my friend's little brother, Georgie, in a storm drain." Bev deadpanned, and everyone just looked at her. Even the shaken up Will, who still had fat tears rolling down his cheeks, had looked up to stare at her. "Every twenty-seven years, countless children go missing, in my town, Derry."

"A clown killed your friend's little brother?" Mike asked, looking shocked. "Richie's little brother?"

"No. My friend Bill's." Bev answered the doppelgänger, still mistaking him for Richie. "It has the power to take on what the person fears the most. So for Bill, It took the form of Georgie, since he feared that Georgie was dead. For Eddie, a leper. For Richie, a clown."

"What about you?" Dustin asked her, and she immediately faltered. She became uncomfortable almost instantly, her father's face flashing over her eyes, the fear of what he would do if he found out she had gotten her period.

"Not important. Anyways, I ended up getting kidnapped by Pennywise itself. My friends came after me, and saved my life. Richie hit this demon clown over the head with a baseball bat, you know?" Bev continued, smiling at the memory of Richie's loyalty to Bill, even though they had fought. "We all fought It, and we killed it. We made a blood oath, that if It ever came back, we would too."

She held up her scarred hand, fear beginning to creep into her senses. She ignored it. Everyone looked at it with wide eyes, before looking back at her.

"He made the kids float. He killed Georgie Denborough, and Patrick Hockstetter, I am sure of it." She continued, not really knowing where she was going with it. "Patrick deserved it, though." 

"Who's Patrick?" They all said at once, and Bev almost felt a little creeped by it.

"Not important right now." She told them, not wanting to go into detail about the Bowers Gang that no longer existed. "What is important, is that it looks like It is back."

Silence. Everyone was staring at her, aside from Will, who was staring into nowhere, tears still silently running. She couldn't get used to looking at Mike, who had the face of Richie. She couldn't get used to watching Will and Mike interact, and how they acted so much like Richie and Eddie. Without all the arguing and swearing. 

Nothing made sense anymore. How could all of this happened at once? The coincidence was surreal.

"When did you draw this, Will?" She asked softly, and he looked up to being addressed.

"I-I skipped history. It didn't feel like... like me, w-when I was drawing." Will stuttered, and instantly she was reminded of Bill. She nodded, smiling sadly at the boy.

"So what do we do now?" Dustin asked, and Bev looked over to him.

"I'm going to call Bill Denbrough. Have a phone, doppelgänger?"


	6. Phone Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yEs i'm aware that bill's stutter is probably too much but i cbf editing it since i've prewritten most of these chapters
> 
> this chapter is pretty much a filler and like i said,  
> this story is a big slow burn

_Derry, February 28th_

Bill jumped when the phone began to ring. He had been resting his head against the armrest, staring aimlessly at the movie that was playing on his TV, his mind too full of thoughts to really pay attention to what was happening on the screen. His parents were out, and he and his friends had decided that they really needed each other at this point in time, and decided to have a movie marathon instead of worrying about demon clowns and doppelgängers.

He shared glances with Stan, who had turned to look at him at the sound of the phone. Bill hauled himself off of the couch, standing up and heading into the kitchen. The ringing got louder as he got closer, the sound drilling into his brain as the seconds ticked by. No one ever called anymore, apart from Bev every now and then. Everyone had stopped calling after Georgie. He knew that it wouldn't be Beverly, knowing that this was neither the time or day that she'd be calling him. It would have been a miracle if it were her. 

He clasped the phone in his hand, pulling it up to his ear. "Duh-Denbrough residence."

"Bill!" 

Miracles do happen.

"Buh-Buh-Beverly?" Bill exclaimed, almost having dropped the phone. "Is it ruh-really you?"

"It sure is, Stuttering Bill." Her voice chimed down the phone, and Bill wanted to cry. He hadn't heard her voice for so long, and he missed her. She had missed calling them last month. Though, amongst his happiness, he could tell something was off just by the way she was speaking.

"Wuh-what's up?" Bill asked, hearing the clambering footsteps of his friends as they all came running. Aside from a few, like Eddie and Richie, who were dead asleep on the couches. Bill hated to remember that somehow, Richie had returned to his annoying, joke-filled self, after the several melt downs he had gone through the day before. Everyone could still tell that it was bothering him, and that he was definitely too scared to fall asleep. Somehow, he had, due to a lot of coaxing from Eddie.

Everyone was still spooked about the whole It thing, and nobody knew what to do with themselves. Nightmare or not, the image of Pennywise's return was absolutely horrifying. None of them were expecting something like this so soon.

"Is that Bev?" Ben yelled, and Bill smiled and nodded. Mike and Stan clambered in behind him, looking amazed. Stan had been a wreck since the words had left Richie's mouth, and had pretty much been crying ever since. The tear tracks were still visible on his cheeks, though he looked happy at the mention of Beverly. Stan never really looked happy anymore, and Bill knew for a fact that he was still crying himself to sleep some nights.

"Hey Bev!" They all yelled down the phone, and Bill only just managed to hear her say hi back. Bill pulled the phone back to his ear, the excitement from Bev's call slowly losing him now. Something was wrong with her, he could tell.

"I have some things to tell you." She had started, her voice shaking. The other three were close, ears listening. "Where's Richie?"

"H-he's asleep." Bill replied, suddenly feeling worried. Richie seemed to be the centre of attention lately, more than usual. "Why?"

"Oh, thank fucking god." She had whispered, and now Bill was even more confused. He eyed the others, who were just looking at him with confused eyes. "A lot of.. strange things have been happening today."

"Wuh-What do you muh-muh-mean?" Bill asked her, feeling fear beginning to creep up on him, and his stutter was beginning to worsen. 

"I started at my new school today, and as I was making my way to the office, I heard these kids in front of me mention Richie's name." Bev explained, and Bill raised his eyebrows. She kept talking before he could reply. "One of them seemed really familiar to me, so I just kept listening, and one of them ended up tripping over some dickheads foot."

Bill didn't answer her, awaiting for her to continue.

"The boy who helped him up, looked exactly like Richie. Face, hair, eyes. The only things that were different is that he has no glasses, and he definitely doesn't wear the same horrible clothes Richie does."

Bill's breath hitched. No fucking way was this happening.

"His name is Mike Wheeler." She then went on, and Bill could feel his eyes get even wider. "They say that they saw Richie in some Void? And that he was calling for Eddie?"

Bill couldn't find the words to reply back to her with, so he kept quiet.

"Mike's girlfriend, Eleven, said that she saw a clown. That Richie saw a clown. That Richie saw motherfucking Pennywise."

"Ruh-Richie tuh-tuh-told us yuh-yuh-yuh-yesterday thuh-that huh-he had a nuh-nuh-nightmare." Bill stuttered horribly, his hands shaking rapidly. "He wuh-wuh-was huh-huh-huh-huh-"

His stuttering was fucking terrible. He couldn't even manage to finish his sentence, giving up on trying as he awaited Bev's words. He ignored the sympathetic looks he was getting from his friends, staring at his lap as he waited. 

There was a crisp silence on the other end of the phone line, before Bev spoke up once again. "Did he mention Mike? And Pennywise?"

"Yuh-yes." He confirmed, and he heard some muffled speaking as though she had moved the phone away from her ear and was talking to somebody else. The words were distant, and he couldn't understand what she was saying. Who was with her? Was it Mike? Had Bev called them with Michael Wheeler's phone? 

"Mike's friend, Will, drew Richie." She said so suddenly and loudly that Bill jumped, before he gathered himself and continued to listen to her. "It was Richie. Glasses, everything. Today, he drew It. Pennywise."

Bill shared a look with the three boys around him, Mike looking shocked, Ben looking confused, and Stan looking absolutely terrified once again. 

"Huh-how did huh-huh-he know wuh-who Ruh-Ruh-Richie wuh-was?" 

"He says he didn't. He didn't know what he was drawing." Bev replied, sounding rather stumped herself. "But he does have a best friend who looks identical to Richie, so he definitely knows his face."

"Thuh-This duh-duh-doesn't muh-make any suh-sense." Bill continued, unsure what to make of the situation.

So Richie hadn't been dreaming. Or, he had, but he was in some other dimension or something? He saw It, and It ripped his stomach apart? He saw his doppelgänger, or twin, and the girl who had called him Mike. Nothing was making sense, but it all clicked together. But how? How had Bev found this doppelgänger a day after Richie tells her friends back home about his nightmare?

"We're coming to Hawkins." Ben suddenly spoke by Bill's ear, Bill then hearing a gasp from Bev.

"No you're not. You'll bring It here, and believe me, these people don't need any more issues." She'd said, sounding defensive all of a sudden. Bill wanted to scoff at how rational she was suddenly sounding, annoyance becoming even with his fear. "I'll come to you guys."

"Nuh-nuh-no. Muh-Mike is in Huh-Hawkins, wuh-wuh-we need tuh-to see huh-huh-him."

"No! Bill, you have to understand-"

"No, Beverly. Wuh-we're coming to you."

His stutter had eased. Interesting.

"Fine, Bill. Do whatever you want, then. You're too fucking stubborn for your own good." She seemed to give in, but was very harsh about it. "Bye." The line went dead straight after. Did Beverly seriously just hang up on him, after not talking to him, or anyone else, for two months? Did she really end it with telling Bill how fucking stubborn he could be?

Bill couldn't help but feel hurt.

"She hung up." Ben read his mind, and Bill slowly placed the phone back down in the receiver. "She actually just hung up on us."

"Wuh-We have tuh-tuh-to tell Ruh-Richie and Eddie." Bill spoke, worming his way around Mike, Stan and Ben and made his way back into his living room, where the two boys were still passed out. Bill noticed evidently that Richie was twitching in his sleep, his eyebrows furrowing as his eyes moved rapidly under his eyelids. Even his lips were moving, as if he were speaking to somebody in his sleep.

Bill went toward Eddie, whom had curled into himself on the armchair, his mouth hanging open slightly as he slept. Bill grabbed his shoulder and shook him gently, Eddie waking up as soon as his hand made contact with his shoulder. Eddie sat there, dazed for a few seconds, before he finally snapped out of it and looked up at Bill. "What's wrong?"

Bill turned back to where Richie had been sleeping, and was a little shocked when Richie was already awake, currently placing his glasses on his face with a yawn. He looked like a living, breathing corpse.

"Buh-Bev called."

Richie's eyes lit up upon the mention of Beverly. "Really? What'd she have to say?"

Bill looked down, not really sure how to explain what Bev had told him. He could feel Eddie's expectant eyes burning into the back of his head, and he was really feeling nervous being under the spotlight that had suddenly been created. Finally, he found the words.

"Sh-she found Muh-Muh-Mike."

Richie's face immediately morphed into shock. "For real?" He'd exclaimed, before fear began to take of the other boy's face. Bill nodded, already feeling bad. "He k-knows about yuh-you, a-apparently."

"What? How? When?"

"His girlfriend saw you, in your dream." Ben spoke up, and Bill was rather surprised Ben had been able to understand what was said, when he didn't directly have the phone. "I presume the girlfriend is the girl that called you Mike?"

Richie said nothing, staring wide eyed at Bill. 

"Huh-His friend duh-duh-drew you, too. And Puh-Puh-Puh-Puh-Puh-" Bill chimed back in, unable to force the last word out of his mouth. Richie seemed to understand, though, and his eyes behind the glasses seemed like they were about to fall out of his head. Bill knew that Eddie's face would have been wearing the exact same expression. "Nuh-Now, we a-are guh-guh-going to have tuh-to find a wuh-way to get to Hawkins."

"We're going to Hawkins?" Eddie spoke up from behind him, and Bill finally turned around to make eye contact with him. Bill nodded. "We're going to meet Richie's doppelgänger? And what about It? Won't It just follow us there or whatever the hell that creep does in it's spare time?"

"But Pennywise is dead. We killed it." Richie muttered, though no one answered him. Bill didn't have it in him to reply, knowing that somehow he didn't believe that were true.

"We're going to Hawkins." Mike confirmed, not having spoken for a while. 

"How could Bev have found this Mike Wheeler so fast?" Richie asked, and Bill shrugged without turning to look at him. "I wonder what he's like. He already has terrible fashion taste. Does he act like me? Do we like the same things? Is his dick as big as mine?"

Nobody laughed, except Richie. Though, his laugh was dry and emotionless. Everything happening at once had sucked all humour and happiness out of all the Losers, and even Beverly whom was in Hawkins with Richie's second self. Bill had never thought anything like this would have even been possible, even with the crazy things they have seen and experienced. Even he was ashamed to wonder what Mike was like. He too had wondered if Mike Wheeler was a trashmouth like Richie, or if he was quiet. 

"How do we get to Hawkins?" Stan asked, his voice still terribly shaky. Stan wasn't taking this whole situation well, and somehow, he was taking it worse than Richie had been, when he had been the one who actually went through the nightmare. Who knows how bad Stan would have been if he had been the one to witness the horrors of Richie's dream.

Bill met eyes with Stan, and he could already tell that Stan did not want to cart himself down to Hawkins. It was written all over his face in raw emotion, and Bill forced the need to hug his friend into the back of his head. He concentrated on the conversation at hand, ignoring the way his own hands were shaking in his lap.

"Buses, trains, I don't know." Ben replied, his voice sounding determined. "We have to convince our parents or something."

"My Mother would not allow anything like this, Ben, you already know it!"

"That's why we'll sneak you out."

"Richie!"

"Well, how else are you going to get out of your Mother's twenty-four hour supervision, then, Eddie Spaghetti?"

"She'll file a fucking missing persons report!"

"Who cares, Eddie. You'll be in a different town, so you'll technically be missing."

"Fine. I could use a few days off from my mother anyways."

"See. You can't stand being away from me, can you, Eds."

Bill watched the two of them bicker, still surprised at how Richie was still managing to tick Eddie off, even in such a dark time. Eddie also gave in way too easily to Richie, which made him smile. Bill had been expecting Pennywise's return to be years away, twenty-seven to be exact. Had things fallen out of place now, that It was apparently back? Like Richie had said, they'd killed it. Bill himself had watched it's face break apart, and it's body fall down the drains. 

Bill couldn't bare the thought of another small child, like his brother, going missing. Georgie would always be fresh in his mind, bringing pain and suffering with him. Bill missed too much. Ever since Georgie disappeared, a rift had been created between himself and his parents. It was an obvious one, and one that would ever, ever go away.

"Why don't we all just sneak out then. You all know we'll have to ditch school, right?" Ben continued, and the latter of them nodded in turn. Okay, sneaking out, Bill could do that.

"Wuh-when?" Bill asked, and Mike was the first to reply.

"Two days."

Bill nodded, along with his friends, whom all still looked terrified out of their minds.

He hoped to god, that nothing else would happen to Richie, or any of his friends, in the last two days that they would be living in Derry. He hoped that nothing bad would happen to Beverly all the way in Hawkins, living with the doppelgänger of Richard Tozier. He hoped that Stan would be able to cope with everything leading up to their leave. He hoped he wouldn't break.

Though, he doubted the fact that everything would be fine and dandy. Something bad always happens to them, and right now was nothing different. They lived in Derry, for fucks sake. The most messed up town of them all.

And along with that thought, Bill knew that Derry always came up with surprises no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, i wanted to say a huge thank you for all the nice comments and kudos i've been getting!! it really inspires me to continue writing this since this is the first fanfic i've posted anywhere for around three years, and i really fucking appreciate it and i love you
> 
> next chapter will be up in a few days :)
> 
> also, follow me on ig if you want!  
> @wolvicious


	7. The Void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't really like this chapter, but it's a part of the build up i suppose

_Hawkins, February 28th_

When Eleven arrived home from Mike's, Hopper was nowhere to be seen. She looked at the watch clasped around her wrist, which had once been Mike's, and read the time across the face. Ten thirty. She stared at the time for a few more seconds, nothing on her mind for a few seconds, before lowering her wrist and looking up.

She milled around the small home for a second, looking for any indication of where Hopper could be. Finally she spotted a piece of paper that was out of place stuck to the fridge, and she brought it to herself without even moving. She caught the paper with a crackling sound, before reading the messy words written across it.

"Emergency at work. Will bring extra Eggos when I get home." Eleven smiled slightly, setting the note down before staring at the blank TV screen. She had told Mike that she wouldn't, but there was a nagging feeling on the edge of her brain that was telling her there was something wrong. She ended up moving the TV, using her mind to drag it into her room. She also grabbed her piece of cloth she used to block out her eyes, before sitting down in front of the TV.

She closed her door, before flicking the TV channels until she found the static. She wrapped the cloth around her eyes, before concentrating on the static sound as she always did. Soon, she was back in The Void, standing in the pitch black, water pooled around her feet.

She could hear voices. Angry voices, concerned voices, happy voices all meshing together as one. There were people in front of her, people she had never seen before. She neared them, standing closest to the boy who looked sad. Very sad.

Soon, she came to notice that Not-Mike was there, too. The same boy, wearing a different type of shirt with trees on it this time, wearing glasses that made his eyes slightly bigger than they should be. All of the boys were looking at what seemed to be a TV, where some movie or show Eleven didn't know was playing. It seemed to be something scary, one of the smaller boys hugging a pillow to his chest. This boy reminded him of Will.

She faintly remembered Bev saying that Will reminded her of Richie's best friend. Was this the boy she was reminded of?

"Oh come on, Eddie Spaghetti, it's not even that scary!" Mike's voice rang out, though sounding different. Less gentle, less calm. This boy was Eddie, the one he had been calling for. The one Bev had told them Will reminded her of him. 

"Shut the fuck up, Richie!" The boy yelled, turning his head to glare at Not-Mike. 

"Ohh, poor Eddiebear! Why don't I come over there and give you a cuddle?" Not-Mike had said back to him, and Eleven watched as Eddie rolled his eyes, Not-Mike leaving his place on the couch and was making his way over to Eddie. This was the person she had spoken to before the clown had showed up. This wasn't her Mike.

Eleven glanced at the other boys, who seemed to show no reaction to their bickering. Was this normal for them?

"Richie! Get off, for fucks sake!" Eddie was soon saying, having become squashed under Richie's body. These boys seemed to have a strong love-hate relationship, very unlike Mike and Will. Mike and Will were so much different from Richie and Eddie.

She stood there, observing them for quite a while, before a boy with brown feathery hair spoke up, his voice stopping and starting continuously. What did this mean? Was he scared? She had faintly remembered hearing that same voice over the phone when Bev called a boy called Bill Denbrough.

"Huh-have yuh-yuh-you had a-anymore dreams, Ruh-Richie?" He'd asked, and Not-Mike and Eddie had stopped their fighting and bickering to look over at the brown haired boy, who looked worried. Seconds before, all of these boys had been entertained by the movie. Now, they were all staring between Richie and the brown haired boy. 

"No, Bill, I haven't." Richie had said back to him, suddenly looking pale. "Which I am definitely grateful for, since my stomach hasn't been ripped out by sadistic clowns in a total of twenty-four hours."

Eleven's eyes widened. Was that what had happened after she had left him? Had that... demon ripped out his stomach? How was he still alive?

She should have stayed. Maybe she could have helped him.

"Have any of you seen It?" Another boy with brown hair asked, the one that was slightly chubbier than the rest. Eleven recognised the term It from what Bev had told them just hours before. "Like last year, when he tormented us one at a time?"

They all shook their heads. Not-Mike looked unsure, though, like he was hiding something. Eleven was intrigued by this, and stepped closer to Not-Mike. Calling him Richie just didn't seem right, the only name she had become used to being Mike. Her Mike.

"Are you okay, Rich?" Another boy this time, the dark skinned boy. He reminded her of Lucas, but calmer and nicer. Lucas hadn't been very nice over the last few months. "You look pale."

"I'm fine, Mike, don't worry about me." Not-Mike had replied, and Eleven's eyes widened greatly. Another Mike? Now there was a total of three people whom possessed the name Mike? Well, Richie's name wasn't really Mike, but they looked exactly the same and acted almost the same, that he could pass for Eleven's Mike. But now there was a different Mike, who was an entirely different person? How much more confusing could things get?

Eleven noticed the hand that came to rest on Richie's leg. Eddie's hand. She couldn't help but smile. That small action was the action that she had seen Mike give Will so many times before, and for the first time in this whole experience, she saw the Mike and Will in Richie and Eddie.

Of course, she'd figured out that Will liked Mike more than a friend should. She didn't mind, of course, and was going to confront Will about it sometime soon. Just by the blushing and the looks when Mike wasn't looking, she had figured it out. She still didn't know much about romance, or whatever it was called, but she knew enough to tell that Will felt what Eleven felt for Mike, and what Mike felt for her. She saw the same in Richie and Eddie, though they were different. 

"Are you sure you haven't seen anymore of It, Rich?" Eddie had said, his previous angry mood having disappeared quickly.

"I'm sure, Eds."

"Don't call me Eds."

"But Eds it my favourite nickname!"

Eleven didn't miss the way Richie had faltered when being asked about It. Though, he had seemed to have gotten distracted by Eddie, and the light she had seen in Mike's eyes so many times before had returned, and he seemed quite happy in those few seconds.

"Buh-but guh-guys, wuh-we need a puh-plan for wuh-wuh-when we guh-get to Hawkins." The one with the cracking voice and brown hair, Bill she thought his name was, interrupted. Eleven's ears perked up at the mention of her town. Bev had told them that her friends weren't coming, but her friends seemed to be thinking something different.

"Well, first, we gotta find Beverly. And Richie's doppelgänger." Mike spoke, the Mike that wasn't her Mike. "Or are they twins?"

Doppelgänger. She hadn't learnt that word yet. And Beverly? Was Bev, Beverly?

"Do we really have to go?" Not-Mike spoke up next, paling once again. "I don't want to meet this Michael Wheeler. That dickhead Penny-"

"We're going, Richie." Eddie.

"But Eddie Spaghetti!" 

"Sorry, Richard, but we have to."

"Fine, fine. Whatever you say, Eddiebear."

"Can you quit it with the nicknames!"

"Don't call me Richard then, Eds."

"RICHIE!"

"Guys, calm down!" Mike. "We don't have time for arguing. It is apparently back sooner than we expected, so we have to act fast. We don't want another Georgie to go missing."

Georgie. Georgie Denbrough. Bev had told them he had been murdered in a storm drain. Bill Denbrough's little brother. Wait, Bill Denbrough. Eleven looked over to Bill, whose face had saddened greatly, and Eleven could see the tears in the corner of his eyes. He was looking at something, and Eleven followed his eyes to a picture that was sitting on a set of drawers that had suddenly appeared, as though Bill had revealed this information to her.

She looked closely at the picture, which showed a small boy, smiling at the camera as he held hands with a younger looking Bill. Georgie Denbrough?

"E-exactly." Bill's voice sounded from behind her, and she turned back around to see that he had moved, sitting next to the curly haired boy whom had been quiet during this whole ordeal. He was the boy who looked the most scared out of all of them. The boy grabbed Bill's hand, and Eleven smiled softly. Were they like Mike and herself? Were they... together like them?

Before she could study the scene any longer, an echoing laugh was sounding over the space around her. She watched in horror as the boys disappeared into thin air, and she spun around only to notice that the set of drawers was still there, the picture of Georgie Denbrough still sitting on the top.

"Oh, little Georgie." A spooky voice entered her ears, and she froze up. It was the same voice that had murmured Beep beep Richie. Oh god, she had to get out of here. "What a tasty, tasty snack he was."

A balloon rose from behind the drawers. It was red, floating in mid-air. She watched in horror as the balloon slowly spun around, revealing words written across the plastic in white. She had to squint a little to be able to read it, but once she did, terror filled her body. I <3 Hawkins.

The balloon in Will's drawing had been I <3 Derry. The town Bev had come from. Now, it read Hawkins. Was It coming for them next?

"Oh, Elevennnn." The voice drawled, dragging out the n as long as possible. "So afraid, so confused. So tasty. But Master won't let me eat you. Not yet, at least."

"Who are you?" She screamed, reaching forward to hit the balloon away from her. But, before she could, it popped, and there was a clown standing in the place where the balloon had once been. She shot backwards, eyes wide and fearful as she stared at the menacing creature.

"Oh, I'm Pennywise, the Dancing Clown." It spoke, it's voice sounding horrible and overall scary. She had to get out, but she couldn't. Why couldn't she get out? "And you're Eleven. Eleven the experiment."

Eleven paused at that. How did this sadistic clown know such information?

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, before opening them to reveal the face she hoped she would never see again. Papa.

"Oh, Eleven." He was whispering, the set of draws now having disappeared. Papa held the picture of Georgie in his hand, waving it around as though it were a flag. "Little Michael Wheeler and Richard Tozier. What a pair. What a pair of experiments."

"Experiments?" She repeated, having recalled that Mike definitely didn't have any number tattooed to his wrist. He didn't have any powers, either.

"Oh, something much, much different from you. They are important to Master. Will Byers is important to Master. You are important to Master." Papa drawled on, taking slow steps forwards. Eleven took quick steps back, eyes wide in fear as she stared at her Papa. "Georgie Denbrough was important to me."

"Get out of my head!" She screamed, much like she had when Kali took over her mind, turning and began run. She heard a terrifying laughter erupt from behind her as she ran, and like when Richie had been with her, the ground began to shake and the water began to splash. She fell to the ground, squeezing her eyes shut and screamed. She screamed for who knows how long, hands against her ears as she tried to force herself out of the nightmare she had placed herself in.

With a sudden jolt, she was yanking the cloth off her face and was looking into the static of the TV. She panted, wiping at her nose, which had run with a lot more blood than usual. 

"Jane?" Hopper's voice sounded, a loud pounding on the door sounding from somewhere far in the house. Without moving, she unlocked the door, and the booming footsteps of Hopper care careering her way, and she prepared herself for anger.

Though, what she got, was pure worry and concern. "Oh god, what's happened to you?"

She didn't reply, trying to stand but collapsing into Hopper's arms.

And there she sat, crying as her nose bled in an uncontrollable stream. 

Something terrible was definitely going to happen.


	8. Hallucinations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually like this chapter
> 
> && i actually know jack shit what the school the losers go to is called so if you know hmu in the comments lmao

_Hawkins, March 1st. Derry, March 1st._

Richie felt uncomfortable.

Mike felt uncomfortable.

Richie was currently walking down the halls of Derry Middle School, staring at the space where the Bowers Gang would usually stand, mocking him and his friends as they walked past. Patrick Hockstetter liking his lips in that sickening way he always did, staring him down as he passed. The glare that seemed to be Henry Bowers permanent expression. Henry would always stand in the middle, then Belch and Victor next to him, and Patrick on the end. 

Now, the space was taken up by some younger middle schoolers who had no idea that Henry and his goons ever existed. Lucky kids.

Nobody, aside from the Losers Club, had any idea what actually happened to the Bowers Gang. Patrick Hockstetter was found dead, in the sewers, his body mauled and destroyed. Victor Criss and Belch Huggins were found dead in the car of Belch Huggins and later, Henry's father was found dead in his armchair, throat slit.

Henry Bowers was never found, and is still deemed missing. Richie had seen Henry fall down that well. There was no way in hell that he could have survived that.

But knowing that Pennywise was involved, maybe he could still be alive and thriving somewhere deep in Pennywise's lair, acting as it's minion. It was clear that Pennywise had taken over Henry in some way, and all the Losers knew for a fact that he had murdered both Victor and Belch, along with his father.

Meanwhile, in Hawkins Indiana, Mike was walking down the halls of Hawkins Middle School, this time glaring at the bullies who still claimed their place in the hall. Troy and James, along with a few extras, were glaring intensely at Mike and his friends, as they always had. Though, since the appearance of Eleven, they had stood back a little, after he had jumped off a cliff for Dustin and she had broken Troy's arm.

Mike didn't really know why they hadn't told anyone about Eleven yet, and he had a thought that it may have had to do with a certain person called Steve Harrington. According to Steve, he'd been completely oblivious to his brother's doings, and after everything had blown over with the gate and such, Steve had gone home to talk some sense into his brother.

After all, Steve was their designated chauffeur, babysitter and friend, and Troy seemed to want to keep on his big brother's good side. 

Mike appreciated Steve.

Richie appreciated his friends.

And when he saw that red balloon floating down the end of the hall, instantly he turned to those said friends.

He grabbed the closest person to him's wrist, which just so happened to be Bill, and stopped him. Bill looked over to him with a confused expression on his face, looking down at Richie's shaking hand clasped around his wrist. Richie barely noticed that the rest of his friends had stopped too, all looking at him with worried expressions.

"Do you see that?" Richie asked, turning back to where the balloon was floating ominously down the end of the hall. People streamed around it, and clearly, they couldn't see the red balloon that looked as though it was frozen in time. "The balloon."

Bill looked to where he was pointing, and Richie watched his expressions. He was hoping for fear, to tell him that he wasn't going crazy and that his friends could see the damn balloon too, but when Bill looked over to him with a confused and concerned expression on his face, Richie knew he was fucking hallucinating.

Or, Pennywise was inside his head, twisting his mind so Richie saw what he wanted him to see.

"There's no balloon, Richie." Eddie had said, resting a careful hand on Richie's shoulder. Richie looked down at him for a second, before looking back up to where the balloon was. It was still there. This time, though, there was writing written in white across the face of the plastic.

Mike.

Mike had stared at Troy and James for a few seconds, almost inviting them to try him. He almost expected them to go against Steve's words and come and punch him in the face, but they didn't even move. Mike, for once, felt powerful. He would have felt better with Eleven by his side, though.

She wasn't at school.

Mike looked away from the faces of his bullies, only for his eyes to land on a red balloon, floating down at the end of the corridor. He stared at it as he walked, the balloon looking as though it was frozen in place, the only thing moving being the white string hanging from where the balloon had been tied. Okay, ominous red balloons. Cool.

He looked at his friends for any sort of reaction, becoming more worried when his friends hadn't even flinched. He grabbed onto Dustin, whom stopped as soon as Mike's hand came in contact with his wrist. "Do you see the balloon down there?"

Dustin looked to where Mike had been pointing, before a confused expression came over his face. "Where?"

"Right there!" Mike exclaimed, thrusting this finger in the direction of the balloon. He looked back to Dustin, who was looking at him with a slightly concerned expression. Mike noticed that his friends had stopped further up the hallway, looking at them with confused expressions. "Don't you see it?"

"Mike, there's nothing there." Dustin replied, pulling his wrist out of Mike's tight grip.

Mike looked back to the balloon, only to find that this time there was a word written across it, in the same white colour Will had used in his drawing. His eyes widened greatly when he realised what exactly the word was.

Richie.

Richie had stared at the balloon for a good ten seconds, before right in front of his eyes, it popped, and the string fell to the floor. Broken balloon pieces scattered across the floor also, and Richie didn't really know what he was seeing. He'd flinched when the balloon popped, as though it had actually wounded him.

He was hallucinating again. It had been like that after the events in the sewer, and now, it was happening again at the resurface of these memories.

Nothing was making sense.

Mike had been staring at the word written across the face of the balloon, the letters directly spelling the name of his apparent doppelgänger. Before he could tell Dustin to take a second look, the balloon popped, the pieces fell to the floor. The white string also fell, creating a small spiral on the tiled floor.

He looked to Dustin, who was talking, but Mike couldn't understand him. It was like he was underwater, and Mike's mind couldn't process what the hell was going on. He moved away from Dustin, quickly making his way over to Will and grabbed his wrist, gaining Will's attention.

"Did you see it?" Mike asked him, searching Will's eyes for any sort of fear. Nothing. All that was present in Will's eyes was confusion and concern. "The red balloon. Did you see it? It looked like the one you drew- it had Richie's name on it."

"I didn't see anything, Mike." Will stated, staring up at Mike with sad eyes.

"Richie, I didn't see any red balloon!" Eddie was repeating, shaking Richie by one shoulder.

"I swear I saw- it said Mike on it, Eddie! It said Mike, and I know for a fact that it means the Mike in Hawkins with Beverly!" Richie exclaimed, feeling himself begin to get angry. Of course he would be hallucinating, he'd been paranoid since the dream he'd had with Pennywise. Or maybe, this last few days is just all a dream. "You know what? Forget it, I'm just paranoid."

"It's okay, Richie. We'll figure it out."

"Mike, it's going to be fine. We'll figure it out." Max of all people was saying to him, and for once, Mike appreciated her. He sent her a sad smile, crossing his arms as a cold shiver went through his body. "You're not crazy. Maybe Richie in Derry is thinking the same thing? He could have seen it too."

"I don't think so." Mike replied, uncertain. "We've never known of each other before, so why would we suddenly start feeling and seeing the same things?"

"Maybe it's It. Maybe it's the Upside Down. Maybe you're twins? We don't know." She said back, sending the same sad smile back to him. He needed Eleven. She'd know what to do.

"Hey guys." Bev.

"Did you see the red balloon?" Mike asked suddenly, staring at the short haired red head expectantly. She'd been the one to go through all the clown dramas, so maybe she'd seen it too?

"The what balloon?" Bev exclaimed, eyes widening so wide her eyes could have fallen from her head. "You saw a red balloon?"

Mike nodded, "Didn't you?"

"No. I didn't see anything." She replied, sounding very worried all of sudden. "Did it say anything?"

"Yes. It said Richie."

"I swear to fucking god it said Mike." Richie exclaimed, throwing his arms up as they finally began their walk down towards their lockers. "M I K E. Mike." Richie spelled as though he was in a spelling bee, trying to find some sort of explanation. "Is It fucking with my head, or is my mind just making it up itself?"

"Richie, calm down. We'll figure this out on the way to Hawkins, okay? We can call Bev, too, if she still wants to talk to us." Mike reassured him, and Richie found it a little ironic that Mike was calming him down about another Mike. "I'll make sure that we figure this out."

"Thanks, Ex-Homeschooled." 

"Anytime, Richard."

Before he could dwell on the thought, the bell for the start of the day was ringing overhead. 

"See you at lunch." And with that, the Losers Club made it to the end of the hallway, and disbanded from there. Richie stared at the place where the balloon had been floating, and any trace of it being there was gone.

Mike stood in the same spot, staring down at his feet. Nothing.

How could a balloon just float there, pop, and leave nothing behind?

"Mike, come on. We have English." Dustin yelled from down the corridor, causing Mike to sigh and drag himself down the hall in the direction of his friends.

Nothing was making sense anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback on this chapter would be appreciated, i enjoyed writing this and i would like to know what you think!
> 
> i also feel like i screwed up the timeline.. but idgaf


	9. Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is absolute shit i apologise

_Hawkins, March 1st_

The whole group of them, including Bev, had all hauled themselves down to Hopper's house straight after school. Mike was swimming in anxiety, knowing that Eleven would have somehow let him know if there was something wrong. He hadn't heard anything, or seen any sign of Eleven's whereabouts, so now, everyone was carefully stepping over the trip wire in front of Hopper's small house. He was hoping to god that Hopper hadn't shut her off from them again.

He still hadn't completely forgiven Hopper for hiding her for so long without telling him anything. 

When they finally reached the front door, Mike knocked. He waited patiently outside the door, wringing his hands together as more nerves began to fill his mind and body. The whole lot of them were there, crowded on the porch, waving to see either Hopper or hopefully Eleven's face when the door was opened.

Several locks opened behind the door, and soon the knob was being turned and Hopper's face came into view. He stared at them all for a few seconds, a look on his face that Mike couldn't read, before he began to speak. "I guess you're all here for Jane?"

Mike couldn't call her by that name. It didn't feel right.

"Yes. Is she okay? Where is she?" Mike asked, growing more worried by the second. Was something wrong? Had Eleven hurt herself somehow?

"She exhausted herself last night when I was at a work emergency. I don't know what she did in that Void place she always goes to, but it seemed to scare her a lot." Hopper spoke, and had stepped to the side to let Mike in. "She's in her room."

Mike powered past him, heading straight for the closed door. The others all clambered behind him, their footsteps heavy as they followed Mike through the small house. Mike raised his fist, rapping the door with his knuckles softly. "El? It's Mike."

The lock clicked. Mike turned the doorknob, slowly opened the door to reveal Eleven, laying in her bed with her arms wrapped around her teddy bear. She looked up at Mike, her eyes sad and tired. Mike rushed over to his girlfriend, crouching down in front of her. "El?"

"Mike." She whispered, a tiny smile coming across her face. Mike watched as her eyes moved to everyone else, and her smile got a little wider. Their friends moved into the room, along with Bev, and sat down on the floor like they had done this plenty of times before. Which, they had.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Mike asked, and Eleven's eyes returned to his.

"I went into the Void. I know you said not to, but I was curious. I felt off and- I saw Richie." Eleven explained, not moving from her laying position. "I watched them for a while, they were talking. They were talking about It."

"What did they say?" Bev asked, and Eleven's eyes moved to where the short haired red head was sitting.

"They asked Richie if he'd had anymore dreams. He hasn't. They're coming here. Richie doesn't want to." Eleven explained, and Mike heard Bev huff. "They spoke about Georgie."

"I knew the little shits would ignore me." Bev mumbled, her tone angry. "They spoke about Georgie? They haven't spoken about Georgie for a long time. Not with Bill around, at least."

"They disappeared. A red balloon came from behind the set of draws, before it popped and the clown was there. It was talking about Mike, and Richie, and Georgie." Eleven gulped, as though she didn't want to say the last part.

"What else happened?" Mike asked softly, not wanting to push her.

"It turned into P-Papa." Eleven whispered, and Mike reached out to put a hand in her curly hair, rubbing her forehead slightly in comfort. "Papa told me everyone was important. Will, Richie, and you, were important to Master. But Georgie was important to him."

"It was feeding on her fear." He heard Bev mumble behind him, and Mike turned to her. 

"What do you mean?" Mike asked, and Bev looked up from her lap to look at him. Their eye contact was always awkward. Mike knew that Bev still mistook him for Richie sometimes, and he could always see the shocked expression on her face every time.

"You're scared of your Papa, correct?" Bev asked, and Eleven nodded. "It, it feeds on your fears. Like I've said before, Eddie is scared of disease and sickness and everything. So, It took form of a diseased leper. For you, it took form of your Papa, because he is what you fear the most."

"What was your fear?" Mike asked Bev, and he knew somebody had already asked her this, and that it made her uncomfortable. He felt bad as soon as he said it, but waited to see if she'd reply.

"It came to me as blood. Heard voices in the sink, the sink exploded in my face, blood covered the whole room." She said quickly, as though it was a very tough subject. "We had to clean the whole room. My D-Dad couldn't see it."

Mike nodded, sending her a sad expression. She smiled a little, before looking back down to her lap. Mike glanced over at Will, who was curled against Dustin, holding his knees to his chest as tears silently ran down his cheeks once again. Everything from the past two years was coming back in some strange, twisted way, and they had all thought that it would finally be over. Mike didn't blame Will for breaking down. He'd been through the most by far. Aside from Eleven.

"What do we do?" Lucas asked, having been silent since they'd left school.

"I suppose we just wait for Bev's friends to turn up?" Dustin questioned, and there was another huff from Bev. Did she really not want her friends to come and see her?

Then, there was a bigger huff from Eleven's bedroom door. Everyone in the room turned around, to find non-other than Jim Hopper standing in the doorway, looking rather displeased. That was when Mike realised he'd heard their whole conversation. He was kind of stupid to think he wouldn't hear, when they were in such a small house.

"Alright. Who is this It person, who is Richie and who is Georgie?" Hopper asked, sounding very angry. "And why have you all been keeping this from me?"

"I- Uh.." Mike stuttered, unable to think of what to say. "Um.. I have a doppelgänger? Or a twin? I don't know."

"Really?" Hopper deadpanned, sounding very unamused. 

"Yes. His name is Richie, and he's friends with Bev." Mike continued, feeling as though he was going to melt under the harsh stare of Jim Hopper. "They live in Derry, and last year they fought some demon clown called Pennywise in the sewers?"

It sounded like a question, and Mike wanted to repeatably smack himself across the face.

"Really." Hopper repeated, eyebrows raising. He was still unamused. "Is this true, Bev?"

She nodded. Mike stared at Hopper, whom seemed to be calculating everything inside of his head. He saw him glance at Will, who upon Hopper's arrival had hurried to wipe away his tears and act like everything was fine. Will and he both knew Hopper would go running to Joyce at the sight of Will's discomfort. He fought the urge to go and hug his best friend, keeping by Eleven's side. She hadn't moved, staring up at her father figure with wide, doe eyes.

"So where is this doppelgänger, or twin, then?" He asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame. 

"In Derry, Maine." Bev spoke up, sharing a glance with Mike for a few seconds. "His name is Richie Tozier, and he's my best friend. He looks exactly like Mike here. Will even drew a picture of him."

"And how exactly, do you know that Byers' drawing was of this Richie, when he is the same person as you say?" Hopper went on to ask, still looking very unconvinced. "I am not convinced, kids. Go to the arcade or something, Jane needs her rest."

"He drew him with glasses. Richie has glasses, Mike doesn't." Bev continued, looking determined to make Hopper believe. Mike suddenly remembered that Bev probably doesn't know who Jim Hopper is, yet she is still trying to explain to a stranger what is going on. "I saw it myself, it looked exactly like Richie."

"Right. Then who is... Pennywise?" 

"A clown that murdered Bill Denbrough's little brother two years ago in a storm drain." 

Hopper's eyebrows seemed to raise significantly at that. "I know that name. Denbrough." He'd said, seeming to have begun to think deeply about something. "When did he go missing again?"

"Two years ago." 

"The same time Will went missing, hm?" Hopper replied, seeming to be connecting some dots that couldn't have been connected. "Do you suppose this Denbrough kid is in the Upside Down?"

"No. Georgie's dead." Bev continued, her face becoming sad for a few seconds. "Found his little yellow rain coat down in the sewer. Pennywise had just pretended to be Georgie, and the Georgie puppet had one arm missing. Georgie's dead."

"One arm missing?" Hopper repeated, his eyes widening greatly. "So you mean to tell me that this Penny person ripped out a child's arm?"

"Pennywise. Also, he's not a person, he's a clown. More so a sadistic demon, if you'd ask me."

"Clown. Demon. Right. And how can you prove this to me that you're not all bullshitting?"

"Just you wait till Richie and his gang turn up here. Then you'll see, Cheif." Mike chimed back in, staring at Hopper determinedly. "They're coming to Hawkins."

Hopper nodded slowly. "Right. For now, get out. Jane needs her rest, and you lot here telling ghost stories is not helping her condition. Out." Mike huffed at that, turning to Eleven for a few seconds, before kissing her forehead gently.. He knew Hopper hated it, but he couldn't care less. "Where is that Steve Harrington? Isn't he your personal babysitter or something?"

"Steve's with Jonathan and Nancy." Will spoke, seeming to have recovered from his previous breakdown. 

"Oh I wonder what they're doing." Hopper had said so bluntly Mike almost laughed, though his eyes widened with the rest of his friend's. "Anyways, out."

With an annoyed huff, from each kid but Bev, they all stood and said there farewells to Eleven. Hopper ushered them out, closing Eleven's bedroom door and pretty much shoving the lot of them out of his small house. Before Mike could leave, Hopper grabbed him by the wrist.

Mike looked up at him, knowing his eyes would have been wide. Hopper didn't even flinch, keeping that blank look on his face. Did this guy ever smile? "Better not be bullshitting me, kid. There's already been enough shit with the Upside Down, and Jane, nor Will, need everything to happen all over again."

"I'm not bullshitting, Chief. Trust me. Trust Eleven."

He nodded to his words, before letting him go. Mike left the house, stepping vicariously above the trip wire before he joined the rest of his friends who had been waiting for him. He didn't really know if he considered Bev a friend yet, since she was friends with his apparent look-alike. It was awkward. What if Bev had an infatuation with Richie? Were they dating?

Well, she did say she'd be running for the hills if he was anything like Richie, but still..

No. He couldn't think about that in such a situation.

But what was Richie like?

"What now?" Lucas. Mike turned to him, before shrugging his shoulders.

"We wait." Bev spoke, looking angry all of a sudden. "We wait for my loser friends to get their asses down here and find us."

Everyone nodded collectively, before they took themselves the way they had came.

Mike Wheeler didn't want to meet Richie Tozier, and that was a fact he would be standing by.


	10. Refusal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this is where it starts to get a little weird..
> 
> i also know jack shit about trains back in this timeline so don't mind my poor descriptions
> 
> oh and *vomit warning* if any of you are squeamish

_Derry, March 2nd_

Today was the day.

Sneaking out of his house had been a tire. Sneaking Eddie out of his house, was even worse. The kid had refused to jump off of the roof, whispering consistently that he was going to break his arm again, or even worse, his leg. Finally, he did end up jumping down, landing in Richie's arms with an all mighty thud. Richie had been shocked that Eddie had finally gotten the courage, though he had to stand there for a good few seconds as Eddie regained himself, head sitting in Richie's chest for a good minute as he slowed his breathing.

Now, they had somehow gotten themselves to the Derry Train Station. Each of the Losers dumped their bikes in the bushes, making sure that they were out of viewing distance and that nobody had been watching them. Richie stared at his bike for a few seconds, feeling the strong need to get back on his bike and ride straight back to his shithole of a house, the backpack on his back heavy.

Richie didn't want to meet Mike.

Richie didn't want to go to Hawkins.

All Richie wanted was to forget that any of this had even happened, and to declare that everything was just one, big nightmare, and that he was going to wake up in his warm bed in his not so warm house, the doppelgänger called Mike Wheeler ceasing to exist.

But, the chance was gone when Eddie had grabbed his arm and began to drag him in the direction of the station entrance. He'd taken too long. He let Eddie pull him along, right up until they reached the ticket holder. The man had stared at the group of boys for a few seconds, before he accepted the money Mike and Bill were holding up to him, giving each of them a ticket.

Richie numbly grabbed the small piece of paper that was handed to him, barely noticing as he scrunched the ticket in his hand. He followed the others, glancing back almost sadly as he longed to stay in Derry. Even if it was infested with some psycho, child murdering clown, he didn't want to go to Hawkins. Hawkins included Michael Wheeler.

"Come on, Richie." Eddie almost yelled at him, and he realised that he had stopped walking and his friends had moved on without him. He stared at Eddie for a few seconds, before hurrying to catch up with them, the ticket still trapped inside his clenched fist.

"That's what your Mom said last night." He joked dryly as he reached Eddie, swerving away from Eddie as his open hand swung for the hit. Richie laughed, despite everything going on in his mind. Humour was his excuse. "Jesus, Eddie, stop denying the truth."

That time, he did get hit. Richie slapped a hand on his heart, exaggerating his hurt. "You wound me, Eddie Spaghetti."

"Shut the fuck up, Richie, I am not looking forward to spending hours with you on a train." Eddie snapped, whacking him on the arm for a second time. Richie wasn't going to lie, it stung. But that just made it all the more fun.

"Don't worry, Eddiebear, we can cuddle." Another slap.

"Would you two shut up, people are looking. We're meant to be at school, you do realise." Stan snapped, his depressed mood having changed to constantly angry. It did worry Richie, but Bill was already on top of it. After all this shit blew over, Stan would be back to his usual self again, just like after the sewers. "We don't need the police to get called on us."

"Why would they call the police?" Richie asked, and even he knew he had spoken real loud.

"Shut up!" All five of them yelled at once, and Richie just sniggered. His snigger was cut off by the train pulling into the station, and instantly, Richie's humorous faze left him. He really didn't want to leave. He didn't want to see Hawkins, he didn't want to see his doppelgänger, he didn't want to go anywhere. Something in his mind was pulling at him, constantly nagging for him to stay. Stay, Richie, stay.

"Richie, hurry up." It happened again. His friends had moved without him noticing.

He moved, as though he were a zombie, forcing himself to step into the carriage. The thought became more and more nagging, and it was beginning to feel like his brain was clenching, as well as the muscles in his legs. He could see Eddie eyeing him in the corner of his eye, and Richie turned back to look at the station. He almost went to step out of the carriage, but before he could try, the door was being closed. Something, or someone, caught his hand. 

He turned, to see Eddie staring at him. It had happened for the third time. His friends were nowhere to be seen. "What's wrong, Richie?"

"I don't want to." Richie said, his vision blurring as he looked away from Eddie's face. He didn't feel right at all. Something was nagging and nagging away at his head, and he was beginning to feel more lightheaded by the second. "I don't want to."

Eddie's hand tightened around his as he repeated himself under his breath. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He looked back out, the station moving away from his vision. The further he moved away, the more the thing inside his head pulled on his brain.

"I don't want to." He pulled on Eddie's hand, his other hand bracing against the closed door. He could also see that the ticket holder was staring, but the tugging feeling just wouldn't end. It would end if he went back to Derry. 

"Come on, Richie, you're fine. You'll be fine."

"I can't."

"You can." Eddie gently pulled him, not breaking eye contact. "Come sit down."

"I can't..." Richie repeated, sparing a glance at the doors. The station was long gone. 

"You can. Come on, it's okay."

Richie stared back at him for a few seconds, before finally giving in. The nagging feeling was beginning to ease, and he was beginning to feel more like himself. Eddie pulled him along, and soon, the familiar face of his best friends came into view. He sat down next to Eddie, resting his free, clenched hand on the table. The ticket was still squashed inside, and he knew for a fact they he was going to need it again.

He didn't say anything to his friends, keeping to himself as he kept Eddie's hand in a death grip. He still didn't feel right, and he almost wanted to burst into tears. What was wrong with him?

He slouched in his seat, resting his head on Eddie's shoulder with a defeated sigh. His leg bounced up and down, feeling the instant need to do something. He closed his eyes, trying to ease his beating heart, and to ease all the thoughts running through his head. Maybe he could sleep through everything, and wake up in Hawkins where his doppelgänger, or twin, lived?

He didn't want to go to Hawkins.

He felt his mind drifting. He kept his grip on Eddie's hand, feeling slightly comforted by the action. He could feel the tears burning underneath his eyelids, and he slowly let one slide out of his eye. He'd been bottling everything up again, and all he needed was sleep. 

He hadn't been sleeping.

"Sleep, Rich. You'll be fine." Eddie's voice suddenly rang around his head, and he did just that.

He slept.

_Stay in Derry, Richie._

____

When he woke up, he felt free.

His mind had cleared, and that nagging feeling was gone. He kept his eyes closed, despite being awake, and just sat there, in some sort of daze he couldn't escape. Though, he knew exactly what he was feeling.

He felt sick.

He scrunched his eyebrows, groaning lightly as his stomach began to turn. Oh god, he was getting travel sick. He hadn't gotten travel sick since he was, what, six? Seven?

He coughed, forcing his eyes to open as his eyes met with non-other than Bill Denbrough's. They held eye contact, before Richie's stomach did a sickening lurch. Another thing on his mind, was that he felt like he was missing something. Like some sort of memory was missing from his head. But what was it? Had he forgotten something in Derry?

"How are you feeling?" Mike.

"Absolute shit. How.. how long have we been on here for?" Richie asked, feeling his hand still clasped with Eddie's. Richie glanced at him, seeing him dead asleep.

"Just over three hours maybe?"

Eddie had been holding his hand for three hours? Jesus.

Richie let his eyes wander, and they soon rested on something down the far end of the carriage. When he realised what it actually was, Richie felt the sudden urge to actually vomit.

The fucking red balloon. White letters written over it and everything, though his eyes were so unfocused he couldn't read what the letters spelt out. He was even wearing his glasses, and he felt like he couldn't see a thing. 

He squinted, forcing his eyes to become accustomed with the light streaming in from the window. Finally, his eyes focused, and the same balloon was still there and floating. Though, this time, there was more than one. There was one word written on each, and Richie struggled to even read the words. When his mind finally comprehended what the words said, he felt his stomach began to lurch even more. Fuck.

_Should have stayed in Derry._

He sat up straighter, suddenly feeling very airy and lightheaded. Bill and Mike's attention was spiked fast, and instantly they were reaching for something Richie couldn't see. He moved to look back at the balloons, only to see that there were three balloons left from the five that had been there previously. His gut lurched even more when he read those three words.

_Beep beep Richie._

He turned his head, feeling the sick coming up his throat. He let go of Eddie's hand, bringing his own to his mouth as he looked for something he could use as a makeshift bucket. Before he knew it, a white plastic bag was being held in front of him. He took it without hesitation, before his stomach gave one final lurch and he gagged.

Nothing came up the first time, only some strangled sound that even Richie found disgusting. He coughed, before gagging once again, and he felt the contents of his stomach emptying all at once, causing forced tears to leak out of his eyes from the utter force of his guts convulsing inside of him. He could feel his glasses slipping from his face, but he had barely any time to push them back up before he was gagging again, before coughing hysterically. For a few seconds, he thought it was the end, before his stomach convulsed once again and he was spilling whatever was left from his stomach into the bag.

Once the gagging stage was over, he was left sitting there, panting and coughing. His mouth tasted disgusting, and it was dry and rid of saliva. He breathed heavily, taking this chance to push his glasses up his face to regain his vision.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his back, a startled sound leaving his mouth, sending him into another coughing fit. Though, he knew his stomach was empty, and nothing more would be coming back up. Though, he gagged a few more times. Once he finally stopped dry heaving, his stomach felt a lot better.

Before even thinking to look at his friends, he looked to where the bundle of balloons had been situated. There was nothing there now, and he could feel the stares from other passengers. He glanced around, still heaving in big breaths as he met eyes with the people staring at him. Almost each one looked down when he met their eyes, and he almost wanted to hurl himself off of that very train.

He tied the bag closed, his hands shaking rapidly as the hand placed on his back rubbed slow circles between his shoulder blades. He finally met eyes with Bill, who had somehow found a plastic bottle of water. He handed it to him, and Richie took it gratefully and unscrewed the cap. He glanced at the others, and finally on Eddie, who was not asleep anymore and had a little fear on his face.

Richie gulped the water, ridding his mouth of the sick taste as he tried to calm himself down. His cheeks were wet with tears, his forehead damp with sweat. His glasses were quite fogged, and he was finding it hard to see.

"You okay?" Eddie.

"F-fine." Richie almost whispered, closing the bottle and handed it back to Bill. He leant his elbows on his knees, inhaling deep breaths as he tried to rid his mind of what the balloons had said. He caught sight of his disgusting bag of vomit, which he had put on the floor between his feet sometime during receiving the bottle from Bill.

"You don't look very fine, Richie." Mike spoke, his voice sounding firm. "You should go back to sleep, you look like you need it."

Richie nodded to Mike's words, wiping his mouth with his right hand. He glanced once more at the people around him, who were still staring. He rolled his eyes at one particular woman, who was glaring so hard he felt like she was burning holes into his forehead. He moved down in his seat, looking at Eddie for permission to use his shoulder as a pillow. Eddie just smiled, and Richie used that as his permission.

He sat like that for a few seconds, staring at Bill as he spoke to Stan, stuttering so much Richie was finding it hard to understand him. Without warning, Richie's glasses fully fell off his face, landing in his lap. He stared at them through his blurry eyesight before pushing them onto his face, for a reason he didn't really know, and forced himself to close his eyes.

His stomach felt weird, like he was full, but there was nothing there. He still felt sick in some way, the words written on those balloons still floating around his mind as though they were on a loop. His friends didn't need to know yet. They were already worrying about things enough.

Soon, after having his eyes closed for so long, his mind faded to black and his thoughts were left to wander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually really don't like this chapter, but better things are coming later after a few shitty chapters :)


	11. Panic Attacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i know my chapters are getting trashy and are dragging on but it's all apart of the build up for their first meeting ;)

_Hawkins, March 2nd_

Mike had been sitting in his Science class when it had first began.

He'd been listening to Mr Clarke, as attentively has he always had, when the uncomfortable feeling clenched at his stomach.

He ignored it at first, his thoughts slowly straying from the class as thoughts of Richie began to seep into his mind. He forced himself to ignore it, slowly wringing his hands atop of his desk as he stared at Mr Clarke as he spoke. Mike couldn't understand what he was saying anymore, his mind fully occupied with thoughts of Richie, and the horrors that had strayed out of the town called Derry. The stories that Bev had told them. She'd told them a little bit more about what had happened to her after they had spoken with Eleven and Hopper, and ever since Mike has been finding himself completely, and utterly spooked. He'd been more alert, more worried, looking out for Will more than he had before.

And now, Bev's friends, including Richie, were carting themselves to Hawkins. He could tell that Bev was really against the idea of her friends coming to her, and Mike almost didn't want to know why. But there was a constant, nagging curiosity that was always there in the back of his head, begging him to ask her.

He moved his eyes down to his hands, which without him noticing, had begun to shake rapidly. He squeezed his hands into fists, trying to prevent the consistent shaking, but nothing was going to make them stop. Clenching them only made it worse. His breathing had picked up, becoming more and more erratic by the second as he tried his best to keep his attention on Mr Clarke's class. His stomach had begun to spin, as had his mind, and the only thought that moved through his head was Richie. Richie, and the clown.

His eyes darted around the room, trying to find something to focus on so he could calm himself down. Though, everything was just merging into one and he felt as though he was about to faint. He had jumped when a hand rested on his arm, a surprised gasp leaving his lips as his eyes found the face of the person whom had their hand on his arm.

"Mike, is everything okay?" Mr Clarke was standing above him, looking rather concerned. He could now feel the eyes of the whole class on him, and at this, he began to panic even more. Tears were welling, definitely against his will, and all he wanted was out. He wanted to get out of this goddamned classroom, where everyone was staring at him, judging him, laughing at him.

He didn't reply to the teacher who had done so much for him and his friends, eyes moving to the faces staring at him. His eyes found Will's, and the look on his best friend's face set him off.

The spinning in his stomach had soon become too much, his mind filled with thoughts of someone who claimed his face, and he shot up from his desk. His waist knocked the small table, causing a screeching sound to fill the room. His chair screeching joined in, causing his ears to almost hurt as a strange buzzing sound filled them instead. He panicked, yanking himself from the imprisonment of his desk, the first tear leaking from his eye at the action.

As he was about to run, his eyes rested on something he really didn't want to see. Red balloons, more of them this time, floating in front of Mr Clarke's board, spelling out words Mike didn't have the time or care to try and read. He ran, grabbing onto the door handle and yanked the door open, moving out of the room with a strangled sob.

He ran in the direction of the boy's toilets, pushing the door open without a thought and collapsed against one of the sinks, staring at his face in the mirror. Tears were streaking down his pale face, his skin a ghostly white. His eyes held deep, dark bags, showing how little sleep he actually got. His stomach was churning uncomfortably, and his head slumped down to stare down at the white, clean sink.

He forced himself to breath, staring down sink hole with some determination to calm himself down. Slowly, he had gained his breath back, and his tears were slowing. His chest was still pounding in his ears, though he forced himself to ignore it as he stared down the sink. He didn't know if there was anybody else in the bathrooms, and he honestly didn't want to find out.

Whatever calm part of himself was gone when he heard a voice utter his name. There was an echo to the voice, and Mike's erratic breathing started back up as he stared down the sink.

"Mike." Giggles. Whoever it was, was giggling so sickly it made Mike want to run and hide forever. "Mike." More, sickly giggles.

They couldn't be in the sink, could they? His mind was twisting things. This wasn't real. He was panicking, he knew. His mind was making up things that weren't real, and was making him paranoid. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real.

Though, like the idiot he was, he spoke back to the eerie voice. "Who are you?"

More voices, this time. Like a chorus, names of people echoing from the sink hole. 

"Betty Ripsom, Patrick Hockstetter, Henry Bowers." Mike knew the name Patrick Hockstetter. Bev had mentioned him. Henry Bowers, too, maybe. Whoever had spoken his name had sounded more alive then the rest of them, which made chills run up Mike's spine. "Help us."

There was some sort of gargling sound deep within the drain, and it was a sound that Mike knew that it was a sound that he was never going to forget. This repulsed him from the sink, looking back at himself in the mirror. His eyes widened the size of saucers when his eyes rested on himself. 

Though, the thing was, he wasn't himself. He was wearing glasses. He was wearing different clothes.

Mike shot back from the sink and the mirror, landing on the floor with a loud thud. He began to sob, hands feeling his face for glasses. There was nothing. He ended up poking himself in his eye by accident, and this just added the fuel to the fire. He was coughing, spluttering, sobbing, the whole lot. Mike became alert when the door was thrown open, and Will was hurrying into the room with that same expression on his face.

Mike just kept feeling his face for the glasses he'd seen, which had made his eyes significantly bigger than they were meant to be. He ended up with wet fingers, his tears becoming more spread across his face the more he felt around for the frame of the glasses. His cheeks hurt, and he faintly suspected that he had been scratching his face without even knowing. Everything was just flying over the top of his head, his only thoughts being Richie, Richie, Richie.

"Mike! Mike, what's wrong?" Will was saying as he knelt down to Mike's side, hands gripping onto Mike's. "What happened?"

"Richie." Mike exclaimed, Richie's name being the only thing he could force out of his mouth. The name was like dirt on his tongue. "Richie."

"What happened with Richie?" Will asked, his voice small but gentle. This caused Mike to clam down just a little, his sobs coming to a halt as he tried to focus on Will's voice. "Is Richie here? Did you see him?"

"Sink." Was the next word Mike forced out, subconsciously shifting closer to Will. He was very aware of Dustin and Lucas streaming into the room as he whispered that one word.

"Richie's in the sink?" Will asked, confusion overtaking his worried expression for just a few seconds.

Mike thought over the names he had heard from the sink. "Patrick."

"Patrick?" Will repeated, squeezing his hands tighter in his own. "Patrick is in the sink?"

Mike nodded. The other names that had been uttered were clean from his mind, his memory of their names completely gone. He spared a small glance to Dustin and Lucas, who just looked as though Mike was talking shit. Mike ignored this, moving his gaze back to Will's soft eyes, seeking comfort the other boy provided.

"Richie." Mike repeated, one hand leaving Will's to feel around his eyes. "Glasses."

"Richie has glasses, yes." Will told him, and Mike nodded to his words, even though Will didn't know what he actually meant. Mike decided to leave it, forcing himself to forget about the thought and to force himself to calm down.

"What do you mean, Patrick's in the sink?" Dustin asked, loudly an obnoxiously. Anyone else could be in the room would think Mike is insane.

Well, Mike is considering himself to be just that.

"Patrick." Mike whispered, knowing that he was becoming really out of it. Nothing was making any sense. "Hockstetter."

They were interrupted when the bell rang overhead, signalling that class was over. Will helped Mike to his feet, who was still shaking rapidly with tears flowing down his cheeks, arm secure around his waist to hold him up. Mike knew he would fall if Will let go.

Will was shorter than him. How was he holding Mike up?

"We're leaving." Lucas. "Maybe we can make Steve drive us to Mike's."

"Steve's in school."

"So are we."

"Steve won't."

"Steve will."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Lucas and Dustin's arguing would have been funny if Mike wasn't on the verge of another mental breakdown.

With that, after an avoidance of a concerned Mr Clarke, the three boys dragged a distressed Mike out of school and in the direction of Steve's parked car, who had for some reason been at home when Dustin made the call. They didn't really know what they were expecting, but when Steve Harrington picked up the phone, they were all collectively surprised. It was like Steve was their own personal service where and whenever they wanted. It was a huge coincidence, and Mike was left to wonder why exactly Steve wasn't at school.

Steve was leaning against his car when they spotted them. Will was holding onto Mike's hand, pulling him along in silence as Mike's thoughts ran and ran and ran. Richie, Richie, Richie. 

"Hey, Little Wheeler, what's up?" Steve had said, resting a hand on Mike's shoulder when they stopped in front of him. Mike didn't answer, moving closer out of habit as Will let go of his hand and went to open the back door of Steve's car. The tears were still falling, dripping of his chin every few seconds as he looked around warily.

Anybody could be watching them through the windows. Any teacher could march out of the school building and accuse Steve of kidnapping or something barbaric like that. Anyone could be watching them pretty much ditch school in the middle of the day. They could get suspended. Steve could get in trouble because of them.

The thoughts were gone when he was forced into the car, seated in the middle of Will and Lucas as Dustin sat in the front with Steve. "So, what happened?" Mike heard, and he slowly awaited Dustin's reply.

"Mike panicked in class, ran out, found him in the bathroom. Said someone called Patrick was in the sink." 

God, Mike was actually going insane.

"Patrick? Who's Patrick?"

"We don't know. I think Bev mentioned a Patrick once."

"Why is Patrick in the sink?"

"We don't know that either."

"And the doppelgänger? What's up with that?" Steve pressed on, and Mike saw Dustin shrug.

Mike slumped, resting his head on Will's shoulder in pure defeat. He was actually an idiot.

And somewhere out there, on the train to Hawkins, Richie was resting his head on Eddie's shoulder in the exact same way. Except, none of the boys who looked alike knew of that one, of many, coincidences that were yet to happen in their lives.


	12. Bad Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay double upload so this fic moves faster and the meeting we're all waiting for comes faster.
> 
> not long to go now, so don't get bored too soon!
> 
> ALSO this is a big filler chapter bc i didn't know what to write at the time and i cannot be bothered changing my storyline since I've written ahead five chapters... soooooo
> 
> also stan POV because underrated & I wrote this three times with different character POV's and nothing worked out. sorry.

_Train to Hawkins, March 3rd_

Stan couldn't help but stare. He couldn't help but stare over at Richie, slumped against Eddie's shoulder. He was twitching, eyebrows were furrowing, lips mouthing words that no one could understand. His glasses had fallen into his lap, the dark rings under his eyes becoming more obvious the harder Stan looked. Richie hadn't been sleeping well.

He couldn't blame him, though. What he had gone through sounded like it had been pretty fucking harrowing, and Stan knew for a fact that if he were the one to be faced with Pennywise again, he wouldn't be right here on this train. He was barely coping as it is, and the only reason he was still here was for Bill, and to be there for his other friends.

Stan had been holding Bill's has in a vice grip for quite some time, his hand being the only thing keeping him grounded. It was like the tears were never going to stop. It was like they were a never ending waterfall, running and running and never, ever stopping. His eyes hurt, he was tired, he felt sick. Everything was hurting, and all he wanted was for it to stop. He wanted everything to stop.

His eyes stayed glued on Richie, his eyes moving rapidly underneath his eyelids as he dreamt. What could he possibly be dreaming about? Was it another dream about his twin(?)? Was it another dream about Pennywise? Were they even dreams, or was it real life?

The image of the horrible lady from the painting flashed through his head, feeling the scars on both his palm and his face burn with incredible pain. Memories moved through his head in a rhythm, recovering things that he wished he would never have to recover. Pennywise's face drifted into his mind, making his stomach turn even more as his mind began to feel light and airy. He gripped onto Bill's hand, harder than before, it being the only thing keeping him in reality. He didn't break his glance from Richie, ignoring seeing Bill's head turn and stare at the side of his face in the corner of his eye.

He'd rather die than come face to face with Pennywise, or the flute lady, again. He'd rather cease to exist than go through the horrors that went down in the sewers. He'd rather kill himself than see that face again. He'd rather die than go through everything for a second time.

These thoughts scared him. Though, these thoughts did not scare him as much as the thought of Pennywise's return. The endless possibilities of what could happen terrified him, and just the thought of meeting a second Richie confused the hell out of him. Beverly had told them that she was with Mike, or whatever his name had been, and that he was the same as Richie.

He knew everyone was wondering what this Mike could be like.

But he was staring at Richie, the Richie that was not called Mike. Richie was their friend, and he lived in Derry. Not this strange, Hawkins town, which seemed to be just as weird as Derry. Just as fucked up.

The more Stan stared, the more fidgety the sleeping Richie seemed to get. Eddie seemed to notice too, peering down at Richie before glancing up at Stan. Stan held eye contact with the other boy for a few seconds, before Richie's voice broke the silence between them.

"Eddie." He'd said, just above a whisper, as though he was lost. Mike, Ben and Bill all seemed to hear this, too, and had tuned into what the sleeping Richie was whispering. "Where are you?"

Richie's eyes were still closed, and his eyebrows were still furrowing and his eyes were still moving underneath his eyelids. Stan didn't know what to do or say, so he just continued to watch. He was watching as though he was just waiting for something bad to happen, which would just add on to the list of bad things that had happened in Stan's life. The list of bad things that had happened in all of their lives.

God, he thought he would be dead before this all happened again.

"I'm right here." Eddie had said to him, though he and Stan both knew that Richie was asleep and couldn't hear him. 

"Eddie?" Richie had murmured once again, his voice shaking slightly. His eyes still hadn't opened, and he still seemed to be lost in whatever nightmare he was having. Maybe it was a real nightmare this time, and it didn't have anything to do with Mike? Or Pennywise?

The chances of that was slim, and Stanley knew it.

"He did the same thing when he saw It the first time." Eddie spoke up, seeming to look around warily at the rest of the passengers on the train. This moved Stan to do the same, and he studied some of the people's faces. Some weren't even paying attention to them, the ones who had been watching when Richie had thrown up his breakfast were still eyeing them, and Stan knew for a fact that they wanted them off this damned train.

Stanley wanted out of this damned train.

It had been hours since Richie's freakout, yet people were still staring.

"What do you mean?" Mike asked, bringing Stan back into reality. Bill's hand tightened around his, and Stan squeezed back for a few seconds.

"He was saying my name, asking where I was. Exactly like now." Eddie continued, looking down at Richie who had quietened down all of a sudden. "Except the first time was a bit more hectic."

"Fuck off." Stan almost wanted to laugh when the crude language left the still asleep Richie, but he knew it only meant that there was something bad going on inside that head of his. "This..."

The s in the word was dragged out, all of Richie's features falling into a blank expression. His lips stopped moving, along with the rapid eye movement and the occasional twitches in his body. Stan watched curiously, wondering to himself what was happening inside of Richie's mind, or if he was in the process of waking up. As the seconds went by, nothing seemed to be happening. Richie now looked almost peaceful, which was a weird thing to see on a boy so hyperactive and full of jokes. The boy who always wore a shit-eating grin and loved to make fun of his friends.

Though, the peaceful stage only lasted a minute or so before Richie was muttering again, and his eyes began to move once again underneath his eyelids. He was speaking fast, the words all meshing together into one, whatever he was actually saying being lost in the gibberish mess. Eddie looked worried, having moved Richie off of him and had leant him back in the seat. Stanley observed the boy, and before he could even wonder what was going on in his head this time, his eyes flew open and a gasp left his mouth.

Stan jumped from the sudden movement, though his eyes never left Richie as his eyes darted around the area, shock spread across his face. Though, he didn't look scared, or sad. He just looked confused.

Stanley always felt confused. Confused whether he was happy, or sad, or excited. Every feeling that passed through his mind felt the same. Ever since that fucking day he was reading for his speech, he'd felt like this. Pennywise fucked up his entire life.

The bad thoughts were lost in his head when Richie coughed, and Stan feared for a second that he was going to start throwing up all over again. He was pretty sure there was nothing left in Richie's body, but you never know. Stan had only just forced himself to forget about previous events, and he didn't need another vomit episode to add onto it.

"I want to go back." Richie blurted, standing from his seat, glasses still void from his face. "I want to go back. We can't go. We can't."

Stan had those exact thoughts when it was spoken they were going to leave Derry. At first, he liked the idea, getting away from Derry and the horrors it's name holds. To leave Pennywise and all it's baggage behind. But when the morning had come around, his opinions changed. What if Pennywise followed them to Hawkins? What if it decided to ruin all their lives once again? What if this time, he killed them? What if, what if, what if.

It was Mike who had convinced him that it would be okay. Mike had been the first to arrive, Stan right after him. Without thinking, Stan blurted everything out, and to his shame, he cried. 

He was always crying.

Mike had hugged him, wiped away his tears, and Stanley had convinced himself that nothing bad was going to happen to them. He stopped the waterworks, and pretended like everything was okay when the rest of his friends had arrived, and before he knew it, he was on the fucking train to another town of horrors.

Well, he didn't actually know what those horrors were, but he knew that nothing there was good. Much like Derry.

So, Stanley Uris, for once, agrees with Richie Tozier on something.

He wanted to go back, too.

"What do you mean, Rich?" Eddie again. Richie was still muttering the same words over and over again, his eyes glassed over as though he wasn't really there. "We can't go back. We're almost there."

"He told me to go back. He wants me to go back."

He?

As if Eddie had been reading Stan's thoughts, he repeated the same thing out loud. "He?"

"P.." Richie begun, and Stan didn't want to hear the end of it. "P.. Patrick."

Okay, Stan wasn't really expecting that to be Richie's answer. Patrick? As in Patrick Hockstetter, their ex-bully, who was dead? The Patrick who had cornered him so many times Stanley had become used to it? The Patrick that followed Henry Bowers around like a stray dog? Or was it the other way around?

"Puh-Patrick?" Bill asked, his hand having tightened around Stan's own as he did so. Stan had forgotten that he had even been holding Bill's hand. "Patrick Huh-huh-huh-"

"Hockstetter?" Ben finished, his voice having been unheard until that moment. "Do you mean Patrick Hockstetter, Richie?"

Richie's eyes were still glassy, though there were no tears in sight. He seemed shocked, not scared. Purely shocked.

"Hockstetter." Richie repeated. "Pennywise."

Stan's muscles tensed at that name. That name that carried so much terror, blood, and just bad memories that Stanley had taken a year to forget. The memories that brought on the bad thoughts. The thoughts he had never told anyone. His suicidal thoughts. Everything.

"What happened, Richie?" Eddie asked, and all of a sudden, Richie's eyes seemed to go back to normal. Stan watched it play out, curiosity overpowering the harrowing thoughts eating away at his brain cells as he waited for what Richie was going to say next.

What if Pennywise was inside of his head? What if Pennywise was here? What if Pennywise was looking at Stan right now, getting ready to feed on all of his fear. What if, what if, what if.

"Richie?"

"What happened?"

Stan's heart immediately began pounding. Was he right? Was Pennywise here? Was Pennywise possessing one of his best friends?

What if, what if, what if.

"You were just telling us that you spoke to Patrick." Richie looked at Eddie with confusion written all over his face. "You told us he told you to go back to Derry. Don't you remember?"

Richie's eyes dragged around, meeting Stan's momentarily before looking back to Eddie. "I remember that bitch Hockstetter. That's it."

"Nothing about Pennywise?" Mike.

"No."

The remaining Losers all looked at each other for a few seconds before Eddie began speaking to Richie once again. Though, all he said was one, singular word.

"Okay."


	13. Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's getting pretty close now isn't it ;)
> 
> this chapter's a bit shit but oh well

_Hawkins, March 4th_

Bev didn't exactly know what to do with herself. It was Saturday, and she was bored. The anticipation of her friends coming to Hawkins was there, but she knew she didn't want them here. They were going to bring Pennywise and it's horrors with them, and she should have just gone back to Derry. But she knew that they were desperate to see Mike, and maybe even her. 

Mike was very different from Richie. He was nicer, he didn't make jokes, he didn't have that signature shit-eating grin that seemed to always be on Richie's face. Mike didn't hide his emotions like Richie did, everything he was feeling being clear as day on his face while Richie kept everything inside of him until he broke.

Beverly had only seen Richie fully break once, and it was a very harrowing moment.

Mike didn't have the same clothing style, and he even styled his hair a little differently. Richie always looked like he had rolled out of bed that morning, his hair always sticking up in odd places every time she saw him. Mike's hair was also longer. Richie always wore those horrible Hawaiian shirts, while Mike wore plain, darkly coloured shirts and jumpers.

He didn't wear those huge coke bottle glasses, his eyes looking small on his face without the glass there to magnify them. He had more freckles than Richie, his eyebrows were thicker. She'd been observing Mike over the past few days, noticing every single difference between the two boys.

Though, there were things that were very much the same. They spoke the same, they were the same height, they were both as slim as each other. They both made the same expressions, and Beverly had been shocked every single time Mike mirrored an expression she'd seen on Richie's face so many times. They both had the same skin tones and everything, and Beverly almost felt like a creep for noticing so many things about Mike.

Another difference between them, was that Mike actually had a girlfriend, while Richie didn't. Well, Richie had an Eddie. 

It spooked Beverly out, to be honest. Were they related, like twins, or were they doppelgängers? Had they been separated at birth? Were they adopted into the families they live with now? Were they abandoned? Did they abandon each other? Did they lie about not knowing of each other?

She didn't know how Richie could have kept the lie up this long, though. 

She sighed, staring up into the blue sky, watching as the clouds moved with the wind. She was alone, sitting by the library, staring up into the sky as if it held all the answers to her problems. Why hadn't Richie or Mike known of each other's existence? Why was Pennywise after them again so soon? What the hell was the Upside Down?

She almost wanted the sky, or the clouds, to talk right back to her, to tell her every single thing she wanted to know. She wanted answers. She wanted to know everything. She wanted to understand.

With a long, deep sigh, she pulled her gaze from the blue abyss above her and stood, stretching out her arms and legs. She began walking down the street, her mind blank as she moved aimlessly through the town. If only the Quarry here was safe enough to jump from, like the one at Derry. She knew that if she jumped, she'd hit the water like it was concrete and be dead within seconds. She didn't have her bike, either, so she couldn't ride around town like she had in Derry. She had nothing.

She almost wanted to be back in that crappy apartment that held so many memories she wanted to forget, with her father still alive. If he were alive, she wouldn't have been here in Hawkins, with Richie's twin(?). She'd be in Derry, with her best friends, despite the horrible things that happened to her behind closed doors. She didn't give a fuck. All she wanted was to be with her friends.

Who knows what would have happened if she hadn't killed her father when she had the chance.

She didn't care. She wanted everything to be like it was before, with or without Pennywise. Beverly wanted to be back in Derry, with her loser friends, so they could all be losers together.

She didn't want them to come to Hawkins. She didn't want to see them here, in this new town that is full of it's own secrets. She didn't want them to lure Pennywise here, where there were so many unsuspecting victims. These people had been through enough already, why would they think that they're arrival wouldn't change things? People would notice that there are two Mike's walking around their town, along with an evil demon clown. What if kids start to go missing again? What if kids start dying again?

Though, Beverly thought that maybe she was being too quick to assume. Maybe Pennywise wouldn't come to Hawkins. Maybe it would stay back in Derry, killing children like it had been before.

But it hadn't been killing children. Pennywise was dead. They'd killed it.

So why now?

And probably, at this point in time, her friends were on a train to Hawkins. Hell, they might already be in Hawkins, looking for her. And maybe, on a slim chance, they had decided to stay in Derry.

Bev decided not to dwell on the thought, sighing as she somehow made it to the arcade. She hadn't been there before, and she was curious to see what the building actually held inside of it. She made her way to the front doors, ignoring the stares she was receiving from other people as she pushed them open with a loud, audible squeal.

She made her way inside, and her jaw dropped. Richie would die if he saw this place.

It was much, much cooler than the arcade back in Derry. Beverly knew for a fact that Richie would have several heart attacks if he saw the range in this place, and she wouldn't be surprised at all if he fell over from the shock of it all. Richie was a die hard for this kind of stuff.

She made her way through the room, studying everything as she walked past. The place was packed with people, and she was finding it quite hard to manoeuvre her way throughout the room. After a few minutes of taking everything in, she went to leave. But before she could turn the way she came, she caught sight of familiar faces. 

She surged forwards in the direction of Dustin, Will, Max, Lucas and Mike, who were all crowded around one of the games, screaming at the top of their lungs as Max played the actual game. She also noticed that Eleven was now here, glued to Mike's side with a faint smile resting on her lips as she watched. She looked better. Bev made her way to them, standing to the side of them.

"Hey, Bev! What're you doing here?" Dustin was the first to speak, his eyes only leaving the game for a few seconds. "You got here just in time! Max is dominating her own high score! Can you believe it?"

"I got bored so I went exploring." Bev replied, a particular loud roar startling her as Max seemed to do something on the game. Bev looked to the screen, staring at it for a few seconds before looking away, and directly at Mike. Mike wasn't looking at her, and was instead looking at Eleven with so much love she was shocked. Richie had looked that way to Eddie many, many times.

Then, her eyes travelled to Will, who had paused his yelling to stare at the two.

Ohhh.

Will noticed her stare, and turned back to the game so fast he probably would have gotten whiplash. She smiled sadly to herself, before standing back to watch Max play the game. Dig Dug, it was called. Richie hadn't played that before. Richie would have had a cardiac by now.

After a long half an hour, Beverly was dinking on Dustin's bike on the way to Will's house. She hadn't really known why she agreed to go there, knowing for a fact that her Aunt wanted her home at the exact time she had agreed to get on Dustin's bike. She knew she was in for a shit storm, but she couldn't really care less. She didn't really like her Aunt. That stale whore.

At some point, the latter of them, aside from Bev, decided that their ride was taking too long at that they were to take the short cut through the woods. Now, they were crashing through the forest at lightening speed, and Bev was finding it hard to hang on. It felt like hours, the amount of time she was bouncing around on the back of Dustin's bike. But soon, a small house appeared in the clearing, and they were now approaching what seemed to be the back door.

When Dustin had stopped, she hopped off so fast she had given Dustin a fright. 

"Am I really that bad of a driver?" Dustin asked, though he didn't seem to be hurt. 

"When going through that forest, yes." She remarked, smiling.

They were all ushered inside by Will, whose eyes were wide and fearful. Mike looked somewhat the same, looking a little spooked. Spooked by what, she had no clue. She hadn't really hung out with these people for a few days.

They all clambered into what seemed to be Will's room, his desk covered in pencils and stacks of paper and his signature sketchbook. There was a Jaws poster strung up on the wall, and Bev faintly recalled watching that movie a few years back. It had made her scared of sharks for the majority of her life. 

She took a seat on the floor next to Lucas, pushing her short hair behind her ear as all eyes turned to her. She raised her eyebrows, scanning the faces staring at her as she waited for someone to speak. Why were they all looking at her? What had she done?

"Why are you all looking at me like that?" She'd asked, toying with the hem of her dress in her lap. She felt her cheeks go red the more they stared, and she didn't know how to react.

"Okay. So the other day Mike had a panic attack or something. We don't really know what it was." Dustin. It was always Dustin. "And he mentioned a Patrick. You know a Patrick, don't you?"

"I knew a Patrick. He's dead. Pennywise ate him."

She wanted to laugh at how it sounded, but it was all too real. Despite how much of a dickwad Patrick had been, his death still spooked her out a lot.

"Right. Well Mike says he heard a Patrick in the sink."

Bev's heart literally stopped right there and then. Vivid memories of hearing those voices in the sink, the tape measure, the blood. The vines, or whatever it was, hair, dragging her face down into the sink as the blood bubbled in the base. The blood exploding in her face and covering her bathroom head to toe in the red substance, the postcard along with it, her father not being able to see it.

You look like a boy.

Beverly closed her eyes, intaking a deep breath as she tried to keep herself composed. When she opened her eyes, everyone was still looking at her. Though, they all had worried expressions on their faces. Why was she always the centre of attention all of a sudden? She was used to be the centre of bullying by Greta and her trolls. Not this.

"Bev? Are you okay?" Will. His voice was small, but soft. He was too innocent for his own good.

"Do you remember me telling you that I heard voices in the sink?" She asked ignoring Will's concern. "And the sink exploded blood in my face?"

It seemed as though lightbulbs all went off in each of their heads, their eyes widening collectively as they seemed to remember. She shrugged, unsure what to say afterwards. 

"I didn't see blood. I saw myself, but with glasses." Richie. Wait, no, Mike.

"You saw Richie?" She asked, confusion filling her.

"I saw balloons in the classroom. I heard Patrick in the sink, and saw the glasses on my face. That's it." He continued, grasping Eleven's hand as he spoke. Bev only nodded, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. She didn't really know what to say, so she let the silence stretch. She also noted the slightly red lines around Mike's eyes, which ignited her concern instantly. Had he tried to scratch the glasses that weren't really there off or something?

"Do you think Richie is seeing it too?" Lucas this time. Bev had barely heard him speak.

"I don't know. Maybe."

Before they could say any more, the phone began ringing from somewhere else in the house. Will shot off his bed and was out of the room in a flash, his footsteps echoing down the hall. The silence stretched on and on as they awaited Will's return, and when he finally did, he came back with a shocked expression covering his features. For once, he didn't look scared. Just shocked.

"What is it?" Mike asked, concern lacing his voice. Will's mouth gaped for a second, before words finally began to spill out of his mouth.

"It was Steve. He said he'd called all our houses until one of us answered." Will started, and Bev didn't think anything of it. What was the big shock about Steve calling them. "He said he found a group of boys in the arcade."

Oh, god.

"And?" Dustin.

"He said one looked... he said one looked exactly like.. like Mike." Will continued, and Beverly almost fainted. They were here. Her friends were here. Richie was here. Fuck.

"Oh, fuck." She whispered, setting her palm on her forehead. Fuck.

"Richie?" Mike asked, and the silence that followed confirmed his assumptions. Richie was fucking there. In Hawkins. In the arcade. Where they had been only an hour ago. They were at Steve's house. Beverly barely even knew Steve!

"He wants us at his house. Now." Will continued, sounding very serious all of a sudden. Without a word, they all stood. Beverly's body was full of dread. Oh, good god. What could they be doing? What could Richie be doing? What could he be saying? Who could he be fighting with?

What was Pennywise doing?

Why was everything happening so soon?

In silence, they left Will Byers' house, Beverly dinking Dustin's bike once again, the dread never leaving her body. If her friends were here, was Pennywise here too?

The thought was the only thing present in her mind as she stared into the sky, not caring if she ended up falling off the back of Dustin's bike.

She wanted answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for 300 kudos! the support i've gotten from this fic was something i was never expecting when i posted chapter one, so thank you!


	14. Hawkins (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually really enjoyed writing some parts of this chapter, but it's kind of weak so i'm sorry

_Hawkins, March 4th_

Getting of the train felt weird to Richie. He didn't feel that annoying, nagging feeling he had when leaving Derry. He felt normal. Like something had filled a hole in his body he didn't even know about. Finally, he felt like himself again, and he was back to the same old Richie, saying anything and everything on his mind without thinking about it.

Though, Richie knew for a fact that everything he was thinking was absolute bullshit.

He didn't even know where they were. It was quiet, there was no sign of human life, and they were surrounded by a heap of fucking trees. Usually, he wouldn't have minded, but they had been walking forever and his feet were starting to hurt. It was like there was needles poking at his feet with every step.

The question if they had gotten off at a station too early was a common question within the tight knit group, trudging down the road with their backpacks slung lazily on their backs. Richie could feel his mouth running, not taking any notice of what he was saying as he tried to pass the time. It was more for himself than his friends. 

"Richie, for once in your life, would you shut it?" Stan had snapped at him for the fifth consecutive time, and all Richie did was laugh. Though, his laugh was dry. He was walking at the front of the pack, following the road on it's endless trail. All Richie was seeing was trees, trees, and more fucking trees.

"Come on, Stan the Man, there needs to be some comical relief in this sad, sad time. Too bad Eddie's mother isn't-"

"Beep beep, Richie." Eddie.

"Well, what else do you want to talk about then? Apart from the fact that Bill made us get off that fucking train!" Richie continued, trying to ignore the obvious, heavy mood lingering over them. He felt it, they all did, but he didn't want to acknowledge it. He didn't need anymore episodes and tears to add onto his list. 

Richie Tozier does not cry.

But it seemed to be in this universe, Richie Tozier does cry. Richie Tozier cries a lot.

"I-I.. Ruh-Richie, the a-anouncer said Huh-Huh-Hawkins."

"Oh really, Bill. What if he was saying Hawkins was the next stop, then?"

"Shut up!" Stan again. 

This time, Richie did quieten. Not because of Stan's words, but to what came into his eyesight as they slowly rounded the corner. A large, slightly old wooden sign was built to the side of the road, peeling paint visible on the surface. Though, Richie could still easily make out the words written across the sign, and his gut fell into his shoes.

_Welcome to Hawkins._

A part of him was happy to see the sign. Another part of him, was not. He once again felt that nagging feeling, tugging at his brain the closer they walked to the sign. The words stood out, among the chipped paint, taunting and teasing him. He almost expected a fucking red balloon to float out from behind the sign, to show him that Pennywise had followed them there and they were never going to escape from him and his continuous nightmares.

Now, he really wanted to cry.

Though, he didn't. He kept his feelings at bay, choosing to take in the expressions from his friends. They were talking. When had they started talking?

He could see their mouths moving, but he couldn't hear them. He stared at Bill, who was trying to force a sentence out. He was making that face. That face he makes when he gets frustrated while trying to speak. Richie couldn't hear his voice. He couldn't hear Bill's stuttering.

It was as though he was underwater. Was he drowning in his own sorrows?

Even Richie knew that was the idiotic side of his brain talking. Or was his whole brain just idiotic?

Richie rubbed at his ears, trying to clear whatever had blocked them. He rubbed and rubbed, and finally stopped, expecting to hear voices fill his eardrums. He was hoping to hear the rustle of the trees in the wind, he was hoping to hear the sound of their feet hitting the road as they walked.

He heard nothing. There was no voices, no trees, no footsteps. Nothing.

"Beep beep, Richie." The voice was so loud Richie was startled, his ears bursting into pain. What was happening to him this time? "You shouldn't have come to Hawkins, Rich."

He tried to act like there was nothing wrong. He tried to act like he was apart of his friend's conversation. But they were all looking at him and he was scared. Why couldn't he hear anything? Had he gone deaf?

But he couldn't have. He heard that voice.

He didn't know the voice.

"Meet up with Mike, everything's over." Who was talking to him? Why was his ears burning?

He turned to look behind him. There was the sign, big, tall, intimidating. Blank. They had passed the sign.

And then it all came back.

He could hear the rustle of the trees, he could hear the voices of his friends, he could hear the footsteps. His heart slowed greatly, and he felt semi-okay once again. What the fuck had just happened? Why did he feel perfectly fine all of a sudden? What the fuck?

"Richie?" Eddie. Eddie's voice. Richie could defiantly hear again.

"What?" Richie asked, his own voice sounding strange to his ears. 

"Are you okay? You weren't answering any of us. We got worried because you were actually quiet for once." Eddie replied, the words joking but his tone not. 

Richie, being Richie, decides to ignore his best friend's concern entirely. "My, my, Eddie Spaghetti gets off on a good one!"

This earned a groan from the latter, and the subject was dropped instantly. Richie was definitely grateful for that. Too many weird things were happening to him.

And on they walked once again, the sign long gone and just a memory. The trees began to lessen, and houses became visible. Were they finally reaching the town after hours of walking aimlessly on an abandoned road, only three cars in total having passed and ignored them? Had they finally reached the town where another Richie was living? Where Beverly was living?

Richie said nothing, adjusting his glasses on his face as he observed the houses. They looked old and run down, but the majority still had cars parked in front of them that didn't look as run down. The houses looked as though they had been there for more than a hundred years, and Richie didn't even want to know why people were still managing to live in them.

The Losers were chatting around him, and he was glad that he could hear them. Though, it was just a background noise as he took everything in, more and more building coming into view the more they walked on. His feet were burning, but he didn't care. They were almost there.

There was more cars passing now, though of course, each and every single one of them ignored the strange group of kids trudging down the side of the road. They didn't even glance at them, driving on as though none of them even existed.

Richie ignored the thought, staring ahead as his mind wandered. It seemed to have wandered on for a while, before soon enough without his knowledge, he found himself standing in the middle of a street. The sounds of cars and people filled his ears, and now there was people weaving around him with strange looks. Everyone was staring. Everyone Richie made eye contact with was staring right back at him with wide and confused eyes.

Richie ignored them, wringing his hands as he listened in on his friends conversation, no longer feeling like he was able to even make a joke anymore. What was wrong with him now?

"Where are we meant to go now?"

"I-I duh-don't know." 

"Where does Bev live?"

"I duh-duh-don't know."

"Where are we meant to go?"

"I don't kn-kn-know!"

Hopeless. They were all hopeless. Even Richie didn't know where to go next.

His eyes began to wander, observing the buildings around him. Nothing caught his interest until his eyes rested on that one, particular word. Palace. Palace? The Palace?

Richie moved his eyes to read the smaller words on some sort of yellow banner, and immediately he filled with joy. Prizes. Pinball. This was an arcade. Hawkins had an arcade.

"Guys!" Richie snapped, interrupting the constant back and forth arguing between Eddie and Bill. "We have to go in there. Now."

"Where?" He heard Stan behind him, sounding rather agitated and tired. 

"The arcade, dipshit, are you all blind? Let's go!"

Richie took off before any of them could answer, powering across the street without even looking for oncoming traffic. He heard yells behind him and then car horns, but he didn't pay any attention to it as he pretty much ran to the front doors of the arcade. Or the Palace, as it was called. 

He threw the door open, stepping inside instantly. When he really took the time to take in the sight, he had almost fallen down. This arcade was far better than Derry's, and Richie's mouth was already watering at the sight of all the new games he had never played before. 

Like the annoying person he was, he shoved past people to eye the games, to read the titles and to take in everything happening around him. The place was absolutely packed with kids and even some teenagers, all crowding around games as one person's hands moved vigorously at the controls. 

Through his mad exploration of the place, he pretty much came skidding to a halt at the sight of a game he had always wanted to play. Dig Dug. Fuck yes.

Richie stared at the thing, which was occupied by a boy who looked the same age as him, bashing the controls as the game went on. There was a pack around him, cheering him on as his score rose higher and higher. Then, before Richie's eyes, he lost, and the boy wasn't even on the leaderboard. Ha.

"Come on, Troy, we don't have any money left."

The boy, Troy, sighed, turning away from the game and in Richie's direction. Along with his friends. Richie was expecting a second of awkward eye contact before they all left and he could finally try out Dig Dug, but instead, the whole lot of them stopped in their tracks and stared at Richie with wide, saucer eyes.

"Frogface?" Troy spat at him in confusion, looking Richie up and down for a few moments. 

"Excuse me?" Richie snapped, slowly connecting the dots in his head. These dicks clearly knew Mike. "I do not look like a fucking frog, thank you very fucking much."

Troy's, and the rest of his goons, eyes widened when the words left Richie's mouth. Richie rolled his eyes, and began walking towards them in attempt to get to the game. He just wanted to play the fucking thing, was it that hard?

But, instead, he was pushed back into someone behind him. He whipped around, almost having a cardiac when Stan was standing directly behind him. When the hell did he even get here?

Without dwelling, Richie whirled back around to face Troy. 

"Since when did you get the balls, Wheeler. And since when did you get the glasses.. and the clothes... and the new nerd friends?"

"Are you insulting my fashion, Dicky M'Gee?" Richie spat, throwing a hand to his heart. "I truly am wounded, but if you excuse me, I want to play the fucking game so move. Please and thank you, of course, good sir." British. Good move.

Richie barely registered the name Wheeler, too focused on trying to get a path to his game. That's right, his game. He will beat whoever holds the high score in five minutes.

"Are you looking to get punched?" Troy, Dicky M'Gee, clapped back, and Richie almost felt sick at the words. Henry Bowers.

"Oh I'm always looking to get punched, Troyboy, but honestly. Get out the fucking way!"

Troy lunged. Richie dodged, only to land chest to chest with one of his goons. They were close enough to kiss, which revolted Richie so much he almost felt the need to hurl in that guy's face. Disgusting.

Before any of them could land a punch, another voice was ringing out over them. "Troy, back off, dipshit."

It was almost like the group of boys were the flash. Immediately, he was let go, but not without a shove in the direction of where Stanley had been standing. Richie was now aware that the rest of his friends had made it, and he could feel the stares through the back of his head. Ignoring it, he moved his eyes in the direction of the new voice, spotting a teen with a mullet staring directly at him with calculating eyes.

Mullet. Bowers.

But this guy's mullet looked amazing compared to Bowers', and Richie knew that this mullet wearing asshole wasn't in fact an asshole. Or maybe he was?

"Go on, pretend you were never here. Nerds."

"Fuck off, Steve. Wheeler and his getup need some sense put into them."

Steve. Interesting. And getup? What getup?

"Stop insulting my fashion, Dicky M'Gee!" Richie snapped, and he didn't miss the shocked expression pass over the teen, Steve's, face. Richie wanted to laugh.

"Shoo, Troy."

"Fine."

And like that, Troy and his dicks were gone. Now, they were left with Steve, who was looking him up and down just as Troy had. Were they brothers or something?

"You're not Mike." Steve spoke, and Richie wanted to roll his eyes. No shit.

"No, sir." British, again.

"Richie, I suppose."

Richie was loss for words, gaping a little at Steve who now seemed to be eyeing his friends.

"Alright then, looks like you're coming with me."

"And why's that?" Richie asked him, eyebrows rising in disbelief. This Steve guy was a stranger to them, but knew who Richie was. What the fuck.

"I have a feeling that Bev is going to be wanting to see you."

"Hold up, you know Bevvie?" Richie asked, heart falling fond for a few seconds. He missed her.

"Yes. And Mike. So are you coming with me or not?"

Richie turned to his friends. They were all staring at him, and Richie suddenly felt pressure. He looked to Eddie, who was just nodding slowly with a calculating look on his face.

Richie turned back to Steve. "Fine. But if you're planning to murder us, do it quickly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry i'm double posting i'm not that mean ;)


	15. Hawkins (Part Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter we've all been waiting for......
> 
> also i didn't check for any mistakes bc I'm hurrying to publish this, so there probably is some mistakes

_Hawkins, March 4th_

The anticipation was killing him. It was actually killing him.

Sitting in this strange Steve's house, listening to him call people until someone picked up, waiting to see Beverly. Waiting to see Mike.

He was almost waiting for Steve to morph into Pennywise. How had they all gone so willingly?

The group of them were clumped in the living room of Steve's house, staring at the TV which hd been playing aimless shows as they waited for Beverly, and Mike, to arrive. Steve had told them that they were on their way, and that if they were hungry they were granted permission to raid his fridge. It didn't look as though Steve was a bad person, so Richie slowly let himself trust him. Steve also didn't seem to live with his parents, either, and there was no trace of them anywhere inside his house. 

Now, Steve was sitting in the living room with them, asking so many questions Richie wanted to smack his head against the coffee table repeatably. Luckily, the Losers were answering for him, and Richie almost thought he was going to fall asleep. He had curled up on the couch next to Eddie, sitting there with his eyes half open as he listened. The excitement from seeing the arcade was gone, though the disappointment of never getting to play Dig Dug was lingering. If not for Dicky M'Gee and his goons, he would have beaten the top high score by now.

Ignoring the thought, Richie fully tuned into the conversation happening around him. 

"Mike is the complete opposite of him. Just you wait." Steve.

"What's Mike like?"

"Literally everything.. Richie.. isn't."

Richie felt a little saddened by the thought. Knowing the fact that they could have been long lost twin brothers, had actually secretly made him happy. But knowing Pennywise was involved, everything was crushed instantly. And knowing Mike was a complete opposite of Richie, he probably wouldn't like Richie. Like everyone. They could be clones, for all he knew. Not brothers. Doppelgängers.

"I'm a fucking beast." Richie mumbled, earning a scoff from who he assumed had been Steve.

"He also doesn't swear as much. Well, he doesn't really swear at all."

Richie tuned out after that. After minutes, or hours, he didn't know, the doorbell was ringing and everyone in the room jumped at the sudden sound. Richie became more alert, sitting up straight as Steve stood from his place on the couch. Richie sat there for a few seconds, watching as Steve left the room in the direction of the front door, debating what he should do. Without thinking, he shot up and bolted after Steve. He had to see Mike. He had to.

He heard cursing and footsteps behind him, but he ignored it and ran up behind Steve as he was opening the door. 

"This better be good Steve or I'm telling everyone about your hair." Richie knew that voice. Dustin. Was that his name? Or was it Lucas?

"Oh trust me, kid, it's good."

Before they could say anymore, Steve stood aside revealing where Richie was stood. He searched the faces, who were all staring at him with plain shock on their faces, looking for the boy who wore his face. Though, when his eyes rested on Beverly, the thought was instantly forgotten. 

"Holy shit." Someone said behind him, though he didn't care who. Beverly was standing in front of him. His best friend. 

"Beverly!" He pretty much screamed, hurling forwards in the direction of Bev. He saw the mid-panic on her face, before she smiled and opened her arms. It looked reluctant, like she was forcing herself to do it, but Richie didn't care.

He threw his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her so tight he heard her make a noise of discomfort. Though, Richie didn't ease his grip one bit as he hugged her, taking in the weeks he had missed his best friend. Aside from Eddie, of course. Secretly, Richie thought Eddie was his bestest.

He knew that wasn't a word, but he also knew that he was keeping that little detail to himself.

"Alright, Richie, get off." He heard Bev say, and slowly he pealed off of her. He felt his grin go ear to ear as he stared at her, but it began to fade when he read the expression on her face. Anger, disappointment. What had Richie done this time?

During turning around to look at his other friends in question, he spotted something. Or someone. He did a double take, feeling his mouth drop open when his eyes rested on himself. He was staring back at him, his eyes as big as saucers. What the fuck?

"What the fuck?"

It was quiet after he said that. He could feel the stares of everyone on him, the sun beating down on the side of his face as his brain tried to figure out the situation. He was staring at himself. He didn't have glasses, he didn't wear the signature shirts he always wore. He wasn't Richie. He was Mike, and he wasn't staring into a mirror. He was staring at a real, living, breathing person.

"Alright, this is weird." That voice again. Dustin?

Straight after, someone poked his arm. He pretty much rocketed into the clouds from fright, breaking his gaze from Mike to look over at the person who had poked him. The hat boy. Dustin.

They held eye contact for a few seconds, before he turned back to Mike. They stared, and stared, before the shock inside of him began to wear off, and he could now feel the curiosity boiling inside of him. How did Mike talk? What was his personality? Who was he?

"Well then, good sir, I am sir Richard Tozier." He spoke without thinking, stepping closer to the mimic of himself with a hand outstretched. Mike stared down at it, before up at Richie, their eyes meeting once again. They even had the same eye colour. He could feel a sigh somewhere within the group, probably at the use of his British accent. Beverly, maybe?

After a few awkward seconds of silence and staring, Richie went to put his hand down in rejection. Though, before he could, Mike was raising his own hand towards Richie's outstretched one. Richie watched it come closer and closer, ignoring the bad feeling rising in his stomach as he watched.

The feeling when their hands connected in the handshake was strange. He looked to Mike, who also looked uncomfortable. Did he feel the same way Richie did?

"Mike." With a firm squeeze, Mike let go, and they returned to their common staring match. The feeling was still there, though as Richie always did, he ignored it, and itched closer to the mimic of himself. Without thinking, he raised his hands and pinched Mike's face between his fingers, thoroughly testing that he was actually real. There was a loud sound of discomfort, and without warning, Richie felt himself literally getting skyrocketed away from Mike, as though there was an invisible force dragging him away with such force he couldn't even breath.

It was as though his life was literally flashing before his eyes. He was being hurled backwards, the people getting further and further away. Before he knew it, he was stopped by what he presumed was a tree. A fucking tree. Before the lovely black abyss that was sure to come, he felt the wind get knocked out of him as his back made contact with what he presumed was the trunk of the tree.

The last thing he saw was everyone running towards him as his vision faded to black. Though, he was expecting his brain to fill with dreams, or nightmares, but instead, he was in water. He was in inch deep water, his arms holding up his whole body as he kneeled there in the pitch black. 

No. He was back there. He didn't even know where there was. That same, reflective water, the dark abyss around him. He'd seen Mike for the first time here. He'd seen that girl. He had seen the girl standing next to Mike, feeling as though he was slowly connecting the dots the more he thought about it. Were they dating or something?

Richie shook his head at his thoughts, wanting to kick himself for the irrelevant thoughts circulating through his brain. He was sitting in what he assumed was a hell dimension, and he's worrying about if his doppelgänger has a girlfriend? Immediately, he smacked himself on the forehead to clear the thoughts from his head.

After a few moments, without thinking, he stood. He yelled. He didn't know what exactly he was yelling, but he was screaming for someone. He didn't even know who he was screaming for. His brain was a big, jumbled mess, and he couldn't understand anything that was going through his mind anymore. It was as though he had gone from remotely calm to psycho in not even a second, and he couldn't even understand himself anymore.

His screaming and yelling was forced to pause when the floor began to shake. It was a like big earthquake, rumbling around him as the water splashed in his face. How can an inch deep water splash so high? 

Oh. He'd fallen.

He looked around frantically, looking for any sign of life. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be back at Steve's house, with his friends and his strange doppelgänger. Where the fuck even was he? His head whipped around in all directions as he searched for any sort of threat, the black setting around him beginning to get on his nerves. There was no colour around him, no sign of life. It was just all black, and the only things that were filled with colour was his own clothes.

Though, it looked like a fucking rainbow as his whole world got shaken around, as though he had been thrown inside of a blender on full speed. He had vaguely felt his glasses fly off of his face, and everything was made more into a blur as he tried to gain his footing.

Then, that same, crazed laugh filled his head. The shaking immediately stopped, as though whoever had put him inside the blender had pressed the stop button. His stomach was churning, he had a headache, and he could hear that disgusting laugh on repeat as he tried to gain his composure. He could feel memories entering his head, though they were all jumbled into one. Memories of Pennywise, more red balloons, situations he didn't remember being in.

It was all forgotten when he heard his name being whispered across the space. An invisible gust of wind pressed his clothes to his body and his hair to his forehead as the voice dragged out the e, a whistle coming soon after.

"Richieee.."

He knew that voice. Of course he did, it was never going away. Fucking Pennywise.

He pulled himself to his feet, turning in circles as he looked for that strangely familiar, disgusting clown that seemed to never leave him, or his friends, alone. He couldn't see It anywhere, and this made Richie panic even more. What he couldn't see, was worse.

"You shouldn't have gone to Hawkins, Rich..." Pennywise's eerie voice echoed over him, the strange gust of wind blowing over Richie once again. Another, long whistle came soon after, faintly reminding Richie of when he would do the same whistle to annoy Eddie. Did Pennywise know that information? Is that why he was taunting Richie with the whistle?

"You shouldn't have gone to Mike, Richieeeee..." Whistle. "Should have stayed in Derry." Whistle.

"Shut up!" Richie screamed, throwing his hands over his ears. He could still hear the whistling through his blocked ears, and it made him want to tear his hair out. "Shut up!"

Suddenly, it was as though that same invisible force was yanking his hands away from his ears. He tried to pull them back, but it was like there was an invisible person's hands clasped around his wrists. He could still hear the repetitive whistling, and Richie was beginning to feel the anger burning inside his chest. He wanted to scream, he wanted to break things, he wanted to break people. He wanted out.

The whistling paused. "But why, Rich. Why when it is just so fun?" The whistle continues.

"Shut up!" Richie repeated, using all the power left in him to yank his hands free. 

"But why, Rich, when your fear is just so tasty..."

Richie yanked incredibly harder at the words, indeed feeling the fear among the anger. But he couldn't let Pennywise know that. 

Well, he was pretty sure Pennywise already knew he was absolutely terrified.

"I'm not afraid of you!" Richie went on to scream, ignoring the sweat going cold on his forehead as another ominous gust of wind tore at his body, more aggressive this time.

"Oh really, Rich. I can feel the fear bleeding from you. I can hear your heart pounding in your chest. I can see you." Whistle. 

"Let me go!" Richie screamed, ignoring the clown's words. Richie still couldn't see it, and he wanted to yell even louder. Where had Eddie gone? Where had his friends gone? Where was Mike, his creepy doppelgänger? Where was his creepy doppelgänger's friends? Where was the colourful world?

"Oh, I can't help you with that. I'm not the one who's holding you." Whistling. 

So much whistling. Too much.

Before he could let out one more angry yell, his eyes fell closed against his will. Suddenly, it felt like his body was falling, and the invisible restraints disappearing from his wrists. His stomach spun the more he fell, the feeling similar to the feeling he got on roller coasters. Though this time, he hated it, and he couldn't open his eyes.

It must have been several minutes before he finally stopped falling. The heavy feeling resting on his eyelids had disappeared so suddenly Richie had no time to adjust, his heart pounding aggressively in his chest as voices began to fill his ears. Though this time, it wasn't that same voice. It was familiar voices, along with the unfamiliar.

Slowly, he peeled his eyes open, cringing slightly at the aggressive light. The voices around him increased dramatically, and immediately there were faces in his. He had panicked for a split second, until he had seen the familiar face of Stanley Uris, his eyes wide with fear and concern mixed into one. He lazily moved his own eyes to the other person in front of him, eyes meeting the terrified looking ones of Eddie Kaspbrak.

"Richie!" Eddie had almost yelled, hands suddenly resting on both sides of Richie's face. "Can you hear me?"

Richie contemplated his answers. "Yes, dipshit."

Richie didn't miss the semi-relieved, semi-annoyed expression pass over Eddie's face. Though, his back hurt, his chest hurt, his head hurt, and he wanted to sleep.

But could he really sleep after what had just happened inside of his head? And could he sleep after the apparent invisible force rammed him into a tree trunk?

"What the fuck happened?" Richie murmured, not moving an inch, eyes moving over the others standing around them. He almost had heart attack when his eyes met with Mike's, who was staring at him rather guiltily. What?

"Thuh-that's what wuh-wuh-we want t-to know." Bill. "You luh-literally ruh-ruh-ruh-"

"You literally rocketed back into this tree without anyone touching you." Steve. Steve?

"Steve!" Many voices said at once, non of them being his friend's voices. This sparked Richie's interest, despite the dazed feeling lingering within him.

"Steve. Why don't you tell me, Steve. You can trust Richie." Richie exclaimed, talking about himself in third person for a reason he didn't know. He felt winded, everything hurt, and he was tired.

He was also horrified at the fact of seeing Pennywise in that hell dimension and actually remembering it, but no one needed to know that just yet.

"Well, El here-"

"There's a lot you need to learn about." It was his voice. But it hadn't come from him, it had come from his doppelgänger. "But Steve won't be telling you."

"Oh come on, Little Wheeler, it's not that hard-"

"Steve!"

Richie stared at the group faces staring at him, staring at the girl he had seen in the hell dimension the first time. She looked pale, horrified, and plain guilty. Much more guilty looking than Mike had been.

"Well someone fucking tell me already, I want to sleep. Whoever rammed me into this tree is a dickhead." Richie heard Eddie snort. "Did you all hear that? Spaghetti laughed! He laughed!"

Richie was ignored, and he immediately felt his head feel light for a few seconds. He ignored it and stared into the spitting image of himself, who was watching him with a calculating expression. He sighed, and Richie waited in anticipation to find out how he had been thrown into a tree.

"Well, Eleven can move things with her mind..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like this is really weak, and that this whole thing was anticlimactic. i apologise if i disappointed anyone yeet


	16. William Byers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't proof read this chapter so there's probably mistakes

_Hawkins, March 5th_

Will had been left home alone.

Will himself didn't know on what circumstance his mother would have left him home alone, after everything that had happened. He didn't know how Jonathan had let him stay by himself, but Will had a vague thought that Jonathan didn't even know.

The events the day before had spooked Will out. Seeing two Mike's had been confusing, it was strange, and Will didn't really know what he thought of Richie. Richie was the complete opposite of Mike, which just made Will feel weird. Watching as Richie had reached to shake hands with Mike had been weird. It was as though he was trying to shake hands with a mirror.

And as he'd watched Mike's twin begin to pinch his cheeks, it had been one of the strangest things he'd witnessed since the Mind Flayer took over his body. But watching Richie get rocketed back by Eleven and into a tree had by far been the scariest part. For a split second, of course, he thought it was Mike. It was stupid, as Mike was standing right there and Eleven would have never done that to him, but they looked the same. Apart from the glasses and the clothes.

Richie looked exactly like his drawing. Should he show Richie and his... friends his drawing?

Will hadn't gotten to speak with many of Richie's friends, who had seemed to keep themselves in a tight knit group. Bev seemed to be angry with them, and to Will's surprise, she hadn't even greeted them after Richie woke up.

Will had honestly thought Richie was dead. It was a bunch of commotion, yelling, Steve shoving past everyone to see if Richie was actually still breathing. He was, Will could hear it after a while, loud and ragged as though he had just been running. His body was twitching, his lips moving without sound. The short kid- Eddie, Will thought his name was, was hysterical. He was yelling, yelling at them and then the knocked out Richie still leant against the tree. Bev's friends had tried consoling him, which ended up with the curly haired boy getting slapped across the face unintentionally.

When Richie had woken up, there had been a collective sigh of relief among the large group. Even Steve, who looked as though he'd just run a marathon. Eleven, too, who was teary and guilty looking. Mike had been the same, and Will knew for a fact that he wouldn't blame Eleven for anything.

Will had almost felt amused watching the new people's expressions as they got told about Eleven's powers. They looked terrified, except for Richie, who was stringing curse words in Eleven's direction as he tried to sit up, his glasses falling off his face as he did so. Will still found it weird, that he was staring at his best friends twin, or doppelgänger, or whatever the hell he was. It had been weird, because he had a pathetic little crush on Mike. There was no way in hell Will would take Richie instead.

Now, he was sitting in his room in silence, staring down at the beginning of his drawing. It was faint, he didn't know what he was drawing, but he still felt the overwhelming need to continue. It was too quiet in his house, and he had almost gone to call Mike, before realising he was too busy consoling Eleven and dealing with his doppelgänger. He didn't know what they were doing, or where they were, so he had placed the phone down and taken himself back to his room.

He didn't feel safe anywhere else in the house without his family home. He didn't feel safe in the living room, or the kitchen, anywhere. His room was his safe place.

But it was too quiet. He could hear his own breathing, the rustling of the trees, the occasional bird. He couldn't remember what day it was, and he faintly thought that maybe he was meant to be at school. Maybe they were all meant to be at school instead of worrying about twins or clones or whatever. Clowns. He'd almost forgotten about that.

At the thought, without thinking, his hand picked up the pencil and he began to draw. He didn't really know what he was aiming for, but he ignored the thought as he drew and drew. It was almost the same feeling he had felt when he had drawn Richie, and when he'd drawn the Mind Flayer and the clown. It was as though it wasn't really him anymore, and it was as though there was someone else inside of his head controlling everything he does.

The thought was all too familiar. This made him snap out of it, shooting up from his desk as he felt the feeling loosen. He was panting, for a reason he didn't know, and his forehead was beading with sweat as he tried to collect his thoughts. He looked down at what he had drawn, his heart clenching painfully as his eyes rested on his creation. Of course, it was the clown.

But it wasn't just the clown. In the background, behind the menacing thing was a child. Now, Will didn't know why in hell he would have drawn a boy in a yellow raincoat, with an arm missing. The image was horrifying, sending Will into shock as he shot up from his chair. He knocked the table on accident, his pencils spilling out onto his desk and over the picture, covering the little boy's face. Will stared for a few seconds, unsure what to do as he was by himself, having his mum nor Jonathan there to run to.

Why had they left him by himself? Why? Had he done something wrong?

Unaware of what he was doing, he had begun clearing the pencils off of the picture and back into their respectful places. When his eyes ghosted over where the little boy had been standing, his chest clenched harder when he noticed that the boy was gone, not a trace of him ever being drawn.

Will felt over the place, his stomach churning as he felt for any sign of it having been there. There was no marks, no dents in the paper, nothing. Maybe he had imagined it?

"Will?" 

Will's heart leapt out of his chest as he whirled around to the sound of his name, relief filling him when his eyes rested on Mike. There he was, standing in the doorway, staring at Will without a care in the world. Will hesitated, moving over his desk in attempt to hide his drawing from Mike. They didn't need anymore issues.

"What are you doing here?" Will asked, ignoring the way his voice was shaking. There was something off with him, he could feel it. His hands were braced on the desk behind him, itching over the paper in attempt to scrunch it up so Mike wouldn't be able to see. But Will's heart rate picked up dramatically as Mike came towards him, his fingers stalling in their attempt to destroy his evidence.

"Just thought I'd check up on you. What are you doing?" Mike had asked him, a particular edge to his voice. This spiked Will's warning bells inside his head, never really hearing that tone in Mike's voice unless it was something really, really bad. Had something happened with Richie?

"I'm- nothing, really." Will stammered, mentally cringing at his weak attempt of covering up what he had actually been doing. Drawing some demonic clown and some little yellow coated child.

Will almost choked when he realised how close Mike had actually gotten to him, staring up at the taller boy in shock. Though Mike seemed to be trying to peer around him, and Will instantly tried to distract him. Mike didn't need to see another creepy drawing.

"What are you hiding?" Mike then asked, itching closer to Will. Will's hands gripped at the table with nerves, fingers searching for the edge of the paper as Mike's leg touched his. "Don't you want to show me?"

"I'm not hiding a-anything." Will hurried, leaning back slightly as Mike became dangerously close. Okay, this had to be some sort of dream or something.

Too Will's horror, Mike moved closer and closer until their chests were touching, his arms reaching around Will. Will had been so caught up in the absurd action happening to him he hadn't noticed that Mike had found his recently created drawing. Will cringed, squeezing his eyes shut as Mike stepped away from him.

Will felt hot, he was sweating, and he was horrified. What exactly had just happened?

"What's this?" 

"Um- I- Nothing, just a.. just a drawing." Will whispered, unsure why he was so terrified of what Mike might say. Mike didn't seem like himself, and he was wondering how and why exactly Mike had gotten to his house. Now, he just wanted Mike to go home and forget this had ever happened. Will wanted to forget that it had ever happened.

"It's the clown." Mike had said, his voice so void of emotion Will knew that something was definitely something off with him. "When'd you draw this, Will?"

"Just before. I-" Will cut himself off when he caught sight of the expression on his best friend's face. He was staring at Will, eyes particularly dark, a creepy looking smile on his face. Will shuffled along the desk in the direction of his door, not liking what he was seeing. He didn't like this form of Mike.

"What are you doing, Will? Are you scared of me?" Mike whispered, shaking his head slightly as he spoke. Will's grip on the desk was hard, and he could feel the pain in his knuckles the more he squeezed. He was full of fear and confusion, and all he wanted to do was run. He wanted to run to his brother, or his mother. Or the real Mike, not this version of him. Maybe this was all just a big nightmare? "Now, you don't need to be scared."

"I- I'm not scared of you, Mike." Will rushed, slowly backing up against the wall closest to his door. Mike's eyes was following him, and Will honestly didn't know what to do.

He lied, he was terrified.

"Really, Will? You're shaking, you're sweating. Or was that from me standing so close?"

Will stood there, mouth agape at Mike's words. He was indeed sweating and shaking, and he couldn't figure out if it was more from Mike being so close, or the way Mike was acting. Before he could whisper some bullshit reply, Mike was talking again.

"We all know you're a queer, Will. We all know you have a fairy crush on me."

Will didn't believe the words coming from Mike's mouth. He didn't believe anything that was happening. It was just a dream. It had to be.

Dwelling on the thought, Will pinched himself. Mike seemed to see this, which added onto the weird mood as some sort of suggestive expression came over his face. Will had never seen that look on Mike's face before in his life. He didn't like it.

"Oh, this isn't a dream, Willy." Will tensed at the nickname. Never in Will's life had anyone called him that, and he never wanted to be called it again. "This is real. You're queer. You think about kissing me, don't you?"

"No!" Will bursted, surprised at his own reaction. Mike seemed amused.

"Do you think about other things, Will? Do you think about doing other things with me?"

"No!" He bursted again, hand slowly reaching for the doorknob. He hadn't even noticed Mike had closed the door.

"That's good, Willy, because you know I would never do those things with you. You're a disgusting queer. You should have stayed in the Upside Down, you would have been forgotten after a while."

That hurt him. He felt his chest and stomach fill with pain as his eyes clouded, knowing that he was literally living through his worst nightmare. Mike was still staring, though there was something wrong with his face. He'd paled, and his mouth seemed to have stretched out before his eyes. One of his eyes was going the opposite way to the other, and instantly Will was horrified. What the hell was going on? 

"Oh, tasty, tasty beautiful fear." His voice. It wasn't Mike's voice. It was gargly, it was menacing, and this caused Will to grab onto the door handle with a sudden force he didn't know he had. "I can't wait to feed on that fear."

Before Will could stutter some pathetic answer, Mike's face became white. Right in front of him, his skin washed over to white, and blood like lines were leaking down his cheeks. His face was stretching, as was his whole body, and his hair was disappearing and changing colour. With horror, Will realised what was actually happening. Right there, in front of him, changing, was the clown Bev had spoken of. The clown she had said took over their worst fears.

Without hesitation, Will yanked on the knob and threw the door open, bolting out of his room and down their tiny hallway, fearful tears rushing down his cheeks as he ran. He could hear thundering footsteps behind him, and before he could make it to his front door, his hip clipped the corner of the wall and his body was sent tumbling to the ground.

He tried to stand, but before he could, he felt hands wrapping around his shoulders, yanking him up from the floor and spinning him around. Before he could even raises hands to hit at the large white, gloved ones, one of those hands was around his neck in a choke hold. Soon, the other hand joined, and Will literally felt himself be lifted off of the floor. He looked up against his Will, choking and gasping as his eyes met orange ones. The clown was so much more horrifying in person than it was in his drawings, and Will felt all his thoughts fly out his head as he took in the sight in front of him, before he tried to scream.

All that came out was a wheeze, so instead he reached out to hit the clown. He hit it's face, and it only laughed, grabbing his wrist with a sadistic smile on his face. "Oh, Willy, you remind me of little Eds."

Before Will could even try to fight back anymore, the hand tightened and he began to feel light headed. He couldn't breath, and he knew he was going to die. He was going to die right here, getting choked by a clown. He was going to die.

With that thought, he let his mind fade away, and all he saw was black.


	17. Twins or Doppelgängers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter isn't edited so there is probably some mistakes  
> also it is probably poorly written, sorry!!
> 
> (PLEASE READ THE END NOTES!)

_Hawkins, March 5th_

Mike was completely lost.

He was lost in his head, he was lost in the real world. He was confused, his head hurt, and all he wanted was to sleep. 

But who could sleep when they're literal identical twin is in the same car as him, sitting right next to him trying to catch his breath after getting winded? Who could sleep when their girlfriend had literally launched a duplicate of him into a tree trunk? Who could sleep at all with a clone of themselves living among them, let alone existed?

They'd stayed at Steve's that night. Steve's parents hadn't come home that night, which Mike had vaguely thought was a normal occurrence. Mike had watched as Richie's friends dragged him inside, disposing him on the couch to properly catch his breath, his glasses toppling off of his face in the meantime. Mike vividly remembered seeing himself with those very glasses on his face, and how he had looked completely identical to Richie.

Eleven seemed to be lost in herself, staring at the clone of Mike himself in guilt and confusion. Mike had asked her why she did it, but she hadn't answered him. She hadn't answered anyone since Mike had told Richie and his friends about her powers. She'd gotten a deep glare from the lot of them, except Beverly, who had still looked as though she was ready to punch them all in the face. Richie had mouthed off, his breaths uneven and jagged as continuous slurs of curse words left his mouth, and Mike knew for a fact that Eleven had zero clue of what half the things he was saying meant. His clone had no filter, and Mike was beginning to find it slightly annoying.

Richie had passed out as soon as his head made contact with Steve's couch. Now, he was sitting beside Mike, in Steve's car, on the way back to his house. Mike's friends had all gone home, Richie's were staying at Steve's. It was almost a though their lives were exactly the same.

"I highly doubt we're twins." Richie had been saying, his voice sounding strange to Mike's ears. It was his own voice, talking to him. It felt like he was talking to himself, and that Richie wasn't even there.

"I don't know." Mike had replied, not sure what else to say. He knew Steve was itching to ask questions, but was keeping silent. Mike felt awkward, and he knew Richie did too. But it was unspoken, and the two of them sat in silence for the majority of the car ride. Steve sometimes tried making conversation, only receiving a word or two from Mike himself and a whole sentence and a half from Richie. Though, nothing that had come out of his mouth had made any sense. Mike just nodded, wringing his hands in his lap as they pulled up in front of their house. He was nervous.

He was nervous at his mother's reaction. He knew that she was home, and so was Nancy, and their reactions were questionable. Did they know there was another version of himself running around? Were they actually related? Had his mother given birth to twins and given Richie away?

His thoughts were cut off when he hauled himself out of the car, a silent Richie following in suit as he did so. Steve waved them on, setting his sunglasses on his face and pulling a cigarette out of his front jacket pocket. Mike went on to walk in the direction of his front door, expecting Richie to follow, but he had his back to him as he stuck his head in Steve's window.

"Can I have one?" Mike heard faintly, and his eyebrows raised just slightly.

"Are you serious? No, run along to your clone." Steve snapped back, and Mike let a ghost of a smile rest on his lips. Though, it didn't last long at the thought of what his mother was going to say lingering in the back of his head. Maybe they weren't related, and Richie was just a literal clone of himself.

"Oh come on Stevie!" Stevie?

"Are you asking to get strangled? Go!"

"Fine, fine." With that, Richie turned at began trudging over to Mike. It was weird, seeing himself walking towards him, his magnified eyes rolling behind the coke bottle glasses. It was all just so strange it didn't even feel real. Maybe he was actually dreaming, and every event that's happened since Will's drawing and Eleven's experience in the void was just a dream. Maybe he was in a coma or something?

Mike ignored those thoughts and began to walk once again, speeding up to his front door and testing the doorknob. You could say that he was surprised when it was unlocked. No one in Hawkins left their doors unlocked since everything that happen with Will's disappearance. What sane person would leave their door unlocked when there was a child missing?

As if Richie had been reading his thoughts, he spoke out almost the same exact words.

"Does anyone in this town even keep their doors locked? Didn't some kid go missing once?"

Mike paused his action of turning the doorknob when Richie had said that. It was like he could literally read his thoughts. Oh god, what if he could? But that would mean that Mike would have been able to read Richie's mind, too, so the thought was put down almost instantly.

"Yeah." Mike replied, not sure what to say exactly. So instead of dwelling, he turned the doorknob and pushed his door open. "Mum?"

When he didn't get a reply, he decided to call for Nancy instead. "Nancy?"

"Who's Nancy?" He heard his own voice behind him, something which he presumed was Richie's finger tapping his shoulder. He didn't turn, stepping into his house and kicking his shoes off. 

"My sister." 

"You have a sister?" 

"Two, actually."

"Well, fuck."

Their short exchange was weirder than the rest, and Mike decided to continue searching his house for his family. "Mum? Nancy?" He yelled once again, and finally he heard footsteps stomping down the stairs. Nerves began to pile inside of Mike's stomach as non-other than Nancy was coming down the stairs, not having looked up yet. 

"Why are you yelling? What do you-" Mike saw the exact moment when Nancy noticed Richie's presence. She had stopped mid-step, staring with her mouth hanging open in pure shock as her eyes went full blown and wide. There was a long pause of awkward silence before she spoke again.

"What's going on? Why is there two of you? Why is one of you wearing those glasses and those.. those horrible clothes?" She'd exclaimed, her finger raising to point between himself and Richie. He heard an aggressive intake of breath beside him, so he turned his head to read the expression on Richie's face.

He looked angry as hell.

"Why does everyone hate my fucking fashion?" Richie had snapped, seemingly glaring at the shocked Nancy still standing at the top of the stairs. 

"Who the hell are you and why do you look like my brother?" She asked, now looking more angry than shocked. "Mike, is there more Upside Down drama you've forgotten to tell me about?"

"No. Well not really, we don't know if it's the Upside Down.." Mike began, ignoring the second scoff from beside him. "But this is Richie, he's my doppelgänger. Or clone, or twin, we don't know. That's why we're here."

"Did Steve drive you?" She asked, and Mike rolled his eyes so hard he felt like they were going to roll out of his head.

"Yes, Nancy. Anyways, where's Mum?"

"In her room. Why?"

"We need to ask her if she had twins."

With that, Mike took off and shoved past her, all the while gesturing for Richie to follow him. He could see Nancy's eyes trailing the both of them as they sped past, confusion, shock and anger being present on her face. Mike ignored her and made way in the direction of his mother's room, rapping on the door impatiently. He hadn't really spoken to his mother for a while, so him bringing a clone of himself to her house was going to be a shock.

"Come in."

Mike hesitated. Richie seemed to notice his hesitation, Mike once again feeling that one finger poke him on the shoulder. Mike turned to his clone, narrowing his eyebrows in annoyance, and Richie just shrugged and turned away. Mike stared at him for a few more seconds, still not really wanting to know what his mother's reaction was going to be, but he went forwards to push open the door either way.

"Oh, M-" She cut herself off mid-sentence, just as Nancy had. She had that same, open mouthed shocked expression on her face, her frail body leaping up from where she had been laying on her bed. She quickly moved over to them, her eyes wide as saucers as they glued onto Richie. Mike watched the whole thing play out, his heart pounding inside of his chest as his brain cycled through possible outcomes of this situation.

Though, to Mike's utter surprise, she reached out and cupped his clone's face in her hands. He watched the scene play out, his eyes now a little wide as his mother checked Richie, as though looking for wounds of some sort, moving his head around as she searched. Richie's expression was unreadable, and Mike could only just see his wide eyes staring at his own mother. Mike's mother.

"Oh my-" She began, though she cut herself off once again. She closed her eyes, not letting go of Richie's face, intaking a deep breath before sighing. When she opened her eyes, they were glassy with tears. "I don't know what to say."

Mike had been expecting her to be a little more shocked than she was acting. She looked as though she'd just found some long lost- wait.

"Are we related?" Richie cut him off before he even started speaking, the same exact question Mike was going to ask leaving his mouth. Instead, Mike watched for his mother's reaction, and he didn't miss the way her face paled and her eyes got impossibly wider, her lips parting slightly.

It was silent. His mother was still cupping his clone's face, teary and staring. Mike's heart began to drop, already knowing what was going to come out of her mouth sooner or later. He could tell by the look on her face that she had neglected to tell him about having a fucking twin.

"I never thought I'd see you again. When I put you up for-" She stopped right there. Mike's heart plummeted even further when he realised what else she was going to say. She'd given Richie away. She'd given Mike's own brother away. "I never thought I'd see you again." She repeated in a haste, and Mike could tell by the look on Richie's face that he was fuming.

Mike hadn't wanted to meet Richie at first. He hadn't wanted to see the clone of himself. But now, that he is standing right in front of him with their mother, it having been revealed that they were indeed twins, he almost craved the thought of having a brother. Nancy was great, but he always did feel like there was something missing.

"You put me up for adoption?" Richie had asked, rocketing back from his mother's hold. Richie's mother now, too. Mike was shocked and hurt by the action, watching the conflict play across his face. "You put me up for fucking adoption?"

His mother looked like she was going to go into cardiac arrest at that one word that had left Richie's mouth. She hadn't spared Mike a glance before she was rushing to explain herself.

"N-no, not really. I had to- they were going to take you if I didn't." Mike's eyebrows raised.

"Who was going to take me?" Richie shot back, now looking as though he was about to make a run for it. "Who?"

"I had to get you away. I had to get them away before they got you."

"Who fucking got me?" 

They were interrupted by Nancy storming into the room, her eyebrows furrowed on her forehead. "Why didn't you tell me there was another one? Another Mike?" 

"I never thought I'd see him again. I never thought I would see the two of them together again." His mother rushed to answer her daughter, tears now rolling down her cheeks as her eyes darted between the three of them. Mike stood back, watching the whole scene play out, keeping his mouth shut as he anticipated what was going to happen next.

He had a twin brother.

"Do you even know my name?" Richie shouted, interrupting Mike's mind-blowing thought.

"I never got to name you... I had to get you away."

"Wow, you don't even know your own sons name. It's Richie fucking Tozier, for your information!" Richie was fuming, Mike could see it. He was also crying, his whole face beat red as he turned to leave the room. Before he did, though, he stopped, whirling around to face the three of them. "I'll be glad to let you know I went to a family of fucking twats, yeah, thanks for that!"

And he was gone. Mike hurried after him, pushing through his mother and Nancy to catch up to... to his twin. It was weird for him to say.

Richie could run fast, faster than Mike himself. He was already out the house and fighting a shocked looking Steve, who had in the meantime gotten out of his car for a reason Mike vaguely thought would have to do with Nancy. Steve was watching Richie, horrified, his screaming twin pushing and punching at his chest. Mike's chest clenched. The scene reminded him of himself fighting Hopper.

"What the hell happened in there?" Steve was yelling, blocking Richie's flying fists. "Hey, calm down!"

"I'll explain later." Mike rushed, surging forwards in attempt to help Richie calm down. He was yelling, or sobbing, Mike couldn't tell, his face blotchy and snot running out of his nose. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around the boy who looked exactly like him, ignoring the way Richie immediately began to thrash. He thrashed that much that Mike toppled backwards onto his ass, bringing the emotional heap that was Richie with him.

Steve had kneeled down too, trying to talk to Richie. To Mike's surprise, he had calmed down a whole lot, sitting limp in Mike's arms. Though his chest was heaving, uneven breaths leaving his mouth. Mike could see the tears dripping off Richie's cheeks as he sat there, seemingly staring at Steve, who was still muttering words Mike couldn't understand.

Then, Richie sat up. Mike released him, bracing against the grass as Richie looked around as though he didn't know how he had gotten there, staring at Mike with tear filled eyes for a few, long seconds. Mike also came to notice the single crank that had spread across the left side of his glasses. How had that happened?

For the third time that day, it was as if Richie was reading his thoughts. 

"What... what happened?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there might be a bit of a longer wait for the next chapter since i'm experiencing some writers block :/
> 
> please leave some suggestions of what you would like to happen! it would be great to hear some ideas from some of you that can boost my creativity to write the next chapter!! it would be much appreciated.
> 
> thank you for the continued support i've been getting on this story :)


	18. Strange Encounters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for this pathetic excuse of a chapter, i literally have no inspiration at the moment
> 
> i chose to do a week's time jump because i just don't know what to do anymore
> 
> next chapter will be more interesting i promise
> 
> i also haven't read/edited so there's gonna be mistakes

_Hawkins, March 12th_

It had been a week.

It had been a week since they had made it to Hawkins, found Richie's doppelgänger and found out that they were actually related. It had been a week since Richie had gotten hurtled into a tree by his twin's girlfriend, who just so happened to be able to control things with her mind. It had been a week since Eddie had snuck out, and he was sure that his mother, along with his friend's parents, would have their missing person's posters scattered all over town.

But somehow, Eddie found it in himself not to give a shit.

He had too much to worry about. After Richie had returned from Mike's, everything went into hysterics. First, Richie was angry, screaming about how he had been put up for adoption and dumped into a bunch of twats he called his family. Mike had been there, watching, slightly horrified but not surprised, as if he'd already heard and seen what had happened. Eddie had noted to himself that he would go up to Richie's twin and ask.

Secondly, Richie was hysterical. He was a mess, still screaming but this time crying too, rejecting anyones attempt at comfort. No one was able to understand what exactly was going on with him, but Eddie hadn't missed the horrified look on Beverly's face. She had never seen Richie so... so hysterical before. Neither had Eddie, and this is what frightened him.

Thirdly, everything had gone silent. Richie had fallen into a tense silence, staring into face, the tears stopping almost instantly. His mood changes were strange, and Eddie as beginning to grow more worried by the second. This time, Richie didn't reject his offer for comfort, and curled up against him in silence. He had some glint in his eye Eddie had never seen before, which had spooked him the hell out. He knew that it was spooking everyone else out, too.

The next day had been a repeat of hysterics. Though this time, it was with Mike. The whole lot of them had clambered into Steve's house, minus Will, Eddie thought his name was. They were all looking as worried and distressed as each other, all talking over each other as Steve tried to ask them what was wrong. Richie was dead asleep, and not even a bowl of ice cold water would be able to wake him up. 

Eddie soon found out the reason for Will's absence. He was gone, as said by Mike, who looked as though he were ready to bawl his eyes out and never stop. Steve had been shocked, as had the others, and Eddie knew that this Will kid had gone missing before. He remembered his face from the newspapers, a year before It. He was found a week later, and was rumoured to have come back from the dead. Eddie knew there was something else going on there.

It wasn't until a few days later that Will was determined missing. This rose a bad feeling in Eddie's gut, and instantly he began to worry. What if Pennywise had gotten the kid?

The missing person's posters were up, much like in Derry, Will's innocent face spread all over town. Eddie helped the group of strangers look for him, searching the woods with Bill, Lucas and Max, which he had been shocked to realise that she wasn't a boy, but they had found nothing. 

Eddie had asked about the abandoned building in the middle of the woods, but the two hadn't answered him. He took it as a bad subject with bad memories and didn't ask again.

But the place had felt off.

The next day he helped search the town for the third time over, ducking in and out of shops incase Will was for some reason inside of them. He never was.

And today, they were forced to stay inside by the Chief of this town. Eddie was worried no doubt, sitting on Steve's couch curled up next to Richie. Eddie constantly wondered why Steve was letting them stay in his house, and why his parents had never come home. He constantly wondered what was wrong with Richie, and why he wasn't opening up to Eddie like he usually does.

He was also wondering how his mother was reacting to his disappearance.

"What's wrong?" Eddie spoke up, distracting Richie from the movie playing on the TV, and himself from the thoughts of his mother back home in Derry. He almost never wanted to go back, he no doubt would be trapped in his house for a total of thirty years.

"What?" Richie said dismissively, and that glint was back in his eye. But it was gone within seconds, and the normal Richie Eddie had grown to love was there.

"There's something wrong, I can tell."

"Nothing's wrong."

Eddie stared at Richie until he turned his head, staring right back. The silence was awkward, the eye contact was awkward, everything was just awkward. This whole situation was just awkward.

Though, Eddie could sense that Richie wasn't okay. His expression was happy, sad, angry, or anything. His expression was blank but his eyes told the full story. There was conflict, fear and anger pouring from his eyes, not a trace of sadness or fear anyways. And then there was the glint.

Eddie had barely caught the change in his best friend's eyes, knowing that if he had blinked at that exact moment he would have missed it. He didn't have any time to dwell on the thought before Richie's face was coming closer to his, and Eddie's mind went into full fledged panic. He backed away, hands coming to brace against Richie's chest as he got closer and closer. Eddie had stopped him right before their lips touched.

Eddie stared, shocked, ignoring everything in his mind screaming wrong. It was as though there were literal sirens going off as he stared at his friend, eyes wide and lips parted. Eddie wasn't going to lie, he wouldn't have minded it. But there was something definitely off with Richie, and it was beginning to scare him. There was something wrong about that look in his eyes, there was something wrong about the expression on his face.

"What are you doing?" He'd asked, watching Richie closely. He saw a flicker of conflict spread across his friend's face before it went back to emotionless. 

"I thought you wanted to?" Richie asked, and when he'd spoken, more alarm bells went off inside of Eddie's mind. His voice had a certain tone to it that Eddie couldn't put his finger on, and it was worrying. "Come on, Spaghetti, you know you want to."

Eddie did want to. But not like this.

"No." Eddie said again, gently pushing Richie away. There was silence between them, eyes locked on each other's. Eddie was confused, worried and horrified all at the same time, and it was now he was beginning to wonder when the others were returning. The others were out with Steve, despite the Cheif's order, looking for Will. Richie and Eddie were ordered by Beverly to stay back, for a reason they both didn't understand. They still hadn't gotten the proper chance to talk with her, since she was off spending time with the Hawkins kids and Richie's twin.

Somehow distracted by all of his thoughts, he didn't notice the way Richie's expression had morphed from completely expressionless to slightly horrified, mirroring Eddie's own expression. Eddie never saw the internal fight going on inside of Richie's head, and he sure as hell didn't see when Richie's eyes cleared and a whole waterfall of confusion filled them instead. Eddie didn't notice anything about the boy in front of him, fighting with his own self, trying to overcome a battle inside of his head. He saw non of it.

Instead, when Eddie had looked back to his best friend, he had nodded off. It was very sudden, like he had been knocked out suddenly, his head hanging forwards somewhat uncomfortably. Eddie reached out, pushing Richie's fringe from his eyes, sadness melting into his mind. He went on to take Richie's cracked glasses off, leaning forwards to place them on the table in silence. The room had fallen into an eerie quiet, and Eddie didn't like it one bit. Somewhere during their conversation, the TV had switched off.

So when he heard the loud thud from upstairs, Eddie was immediately alarmed. His heart began to pound as he sat there, listening, waiting for another thud to echo throughout Steve's double storey house. He wasn't disappointed when there was another, much like the first, right above him. He jumped, almost rocketing off of the couch in horror as it broke the silence, his hands beginning to shake. 

He knew he shouldn't go up there. He knew he shouldn't be the idiot who inspects the creepy noises, but he had to. It was like there was an invisible force pulling him towards the sound, to investigate it, to find out exactly what it was. So, despite the alarms screaming away in his mind, he stood off the couch and began to venture towards the staircase.

He took one last look at the sleeping Richie, barely visible from the entrance to the living room, before taking his first step up the stairs. He looked up, hesitating slightly, before powering up the rest as if it were no biggie. As if couldn't be walking into his own death.

When he made it to the top of the stairs, there was another thud. He jumped, gripping onto the handrail for his life as he looked down the hall, a closed door meeting his eye. He sighed, rolling his eyes at himself, before letting go of the handrail and began walking down the hall. His mind was screaming at him, begging him not to go into the room and to go back downstairs to sit with Richie and just watch TV. 

He ignored those thoughts when he reached the door. He reached out, gripping the handle before yanking the door open, not really knowing what to expect. 

There was nothing. It seemed to be a spare room, the walls dull as well as the bedsheets. It was a basic room, nothing out of the ordinary. Eddie must've been hearing things.

He was about to turn and leave the room to go back downstairs when he noticed the wardrobe door was open. There was things on the ground, photos it looked like, spilled across the carpet as though they'd been poured from a box. He knew he shouldn't be poking around Steve's things, or his parents things, but he was curious and something wasn't right.

Was anything ever right in Eddie's life?

He walked over to the pictures strewn across the floor, kneeling down to get a better look.

Eddie felt his eyes go as wide as saucers when they rested on what was actually in the pictures.

Georgie. There was a picture of Georgie, smiling into the camera, all his teeth on show. Eddie's heart cracked a little, looking at the kid's beaming smile, his eyes full of laughter and happiness. He was showing the camera something that Eddie couldn't quite make out, though the thought was gone from his mind when he saw the picture underneath Georgie's.

This time, it was two babies. The picture had been taken in the hospital.

One was crying, one was asleep, both of them sharing the same black hair. Eddie soon came to notice the writing in the corner, and his eyes widened greatly as he read. Richie's exact birthday had been written in black marker, along with the surname Wheeler. This had to be Mike and Richie.

The next picture was more horrifying than the first two. It wasn't a picture of people, but instead, it was a picture of that strange complex planted smack in the middle of the forest. It looked recent, and once again there was the little words written in black marker across the bottom right corner.

_Hawkins National Laboratory, November 6th 1983._

But that wasn't the part that freaked Eddie out the most. What was written on the back, in red marker, was what had terrified him the most.

_It's time for your pills, Eddie._

And as he finished the last word, his watch set off. The alarm scared him half to death, dropping the picture in the process. He hurried to turn it off, ignoring the nagging feeling to takes pills as he moved the three creepy pictures to the side, before rifling through the rest. It was a bunch of Steve's pictures. There was another child, too. Steve had a brother?

"What are you doing?" Eddie shrieked, Richie's voice starling him more than his watch had. He whirled around, gathering the three pictures in his hand as Richie stood at the door, eyes heavy as he watched Eddie. "Are you seriously going through Stevie's pictures? Wow, Eddiebear, do you have a little crush?"

Normal Richie was back. It was as though the almost kiss had never happened.

"I heard noises- I don't have a little crush, dipshit, he's older than me!" Eddie retaliated, hurrying to gather the rest of the pictures and shove them inside the wardrobe clumsily. 

"Never stopped me." 

Eddie gagged.

"Look at you, you're taking some!"

Eddie rolled his eyes, unsure what to say. He shot past Richie, leaving the room in a haste while stuffing the pictures in his pocket. Why did Steve have these?

He would be for sure asking him when they arrive home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologise for this trash. anyways, next chapter is going to be about will, so that should be interesting ;)
> 
> ALSO if you like the maze runner, i posted a newtmas/thominho/sad thomas one shot a few days ago if you want to check it out
> 
> once again i'm so sorry for this pathetic chapter, leave some suggestions/what you think will happen in the comments!


	19. Sorry... (A/N)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for this....

yes yes i know author's notes are so fucking annoying but i honestly have the worst writers block for this fic. i was worrying that this was going to happen, and now that it's happening, idk what to do. school has also just started for me and i'm already stressed lmao

also, i've been beginning to lose interest in stranger things/it. YES i know i'm horrid, but honestly the exhilaration i felt for this fic when i first began has been beginning to die off.

but no, i'm not abandoning this fic. i would never want to do that. the support i have gotten is amazing, and I was never expecting for this to do so well since it's been the first pic I've posted in over three years. the support is what is keeping me going!

PLEASE COMMENT SUGGESTIONS! hearing suggestions from you would help so much, and i know that i'd be able to pull it off eventually. when I finish the next chapter, this'll be deleted and hopefully i can continue as normal, and that i can bring out the chapters for you guys.

i apologise for being THAT writer who posts author's notes instead of a chapter, but i had to get this out instead of leaving everyone hanging.

if you read this, thank you :)


	20. Empty Spaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS PIECE OF SHIT EXCUSE OF A CHAPTER!!!
> 
> i've been trying so hard over the past few days to TRY and make something decent, but my brain just won't work. i feel like this is such a let down, but i did want to give you all a taste on what's going on with will......
> 
> this is so short, it was meant to be longer but i just couldn't think of anything! i have lost a lot of interest in IT/ST, and i'm trying very hard to keep myself invested in this. much like this chapter, my brain is empty. this is like 1,000 words less than what i usually write :(
> 
> you have the maze runner to blame for my writer's block, ever since tdc came out i've lost interest in literally everything. tmr has been my life for so long and the long lost fangirl has returned.
> 
> again, i'm so sorry for making you wait and to come out with this trash. i apologise.
> 
> ps haven't edited so there's gonna be mistakes i already know, and things probably won't make no sense whatsoever.

_Hawkins, March 13th_

When he'd woken up, he felt nothing.

Everything around him was silent, his hands were restrained behind him and his hair was in his eyes. It was so quiet he could hear his own, steady heartbeat, and for some reason he felt strangely calm. He could feel the heavy sweat beading on his forehead, he could feel his muscles begging for release. 

He examined his surroundings, head swivelling around as he focused on certain objects, fear never once passing over his mind. He sat there for a few more minutes, thinking, unsure what to do with himself. It was so quiet he could hear some kind of dripping sound echoing off of the walls, casting and unsettling feeling across his body. Immediately, his mind had gone to dripping blood. Any sane person's mind would go to dripping water from a tap, or a tipped over glass. He could almost imagine the water running over the surface of a table, falling off of the edge and into a clear puddle on the floor. Though, the somewhat calming thought was sent clean out of his mind when he imagined the water going red as drips of blood slid off of a dead person's finger.

That was a thought he really didn't want to be having.

He stared at his feet stretched in front of him, jiggling his legs slightly. He could feel his thoughts coming forwards, tugging at his memory, forcing themselves to become the only ting Will could think about. All at once, everything came back to him, and it was as though Will could physically feel the blow, as if he'd had the wind knocked out of him. He gasped, eyes welling as the memories of Mike, or the clown, came surging back into his head at alarming speeds. How Mike had cornered him, how Mike had morphed into that clown right in front of his eyes.

And that's when the panic set in.

He felt the tears begin to run as he yanked on the restraints, ignoring the intense pain that flared up in his wrists. He ignored the thumping of his heart as he yelled out, hoping that someone would hear him.

Will knew nobody would be able to hear him.

He sat like that, yelling and crying, desperate for somebody's help for who knows how long. Finally, he gave up, chest heaving as he forced himself to calm down. He could still hear the dripping, the sound bouncing across the walls. This spiked curiosity within his panicked state, and he finally took it within himself to fully take in his surroundings. 

It was dark, and it was beginning to smell. He took it upon himself to look up, expecting to see a normal ceiling above him, but to his surprise, the walls seemed to go up and up. He could see at the very top that there was some sort of grate, and he could see the light shining through the gaps. It was daytime.

The trickle of water was still present, dripping consistently and beginning to drive him insane. Everything about this place was driving him insane. The memories of the clown circulated through his mind on a continuous loop, causing his chest to constrict as he tried to hold in the fear and anger at the same time. Why he was angry, he didn't really know.

Before he could let everything out, he noticed something. In the very far corner of the large space, his eyes rested on something in the colour of dark maroon, or red. He could see it moving, he could see the small bursts of light, and he could definitely see the disgusting goo like substance coating the whole thing. His fear intensified, as did his struggle, and in the timespan of a second he was yelling and screaming, desperately trying to break free from the restraints. He could feel the burning sensation in his wrists, he could feel the blood running freely. But he didn't care. He couldn't go back there.

But hadn't Eleven closed the gate? 

"Oh, Will." A voice echoed throughout the room, the tone sinister. Will's head shot up in alarm, scanning his surroundings for any sign of a person. "Poor, poor Will." 

And that's when he recognised the voice. Mike's voice.

Just as the realisation had come to him, Will spotted his friend. He was covered in some sort of dark substance, his hair matted down to his forehead as he approached Will, eyes almost as dark as the weird substance. Will was too overwhelmed to move, eyes fixed on the image of his friend. 

This wasn't Mike. He knew it wasn't Mike.

"Poor little queer Willy." Not-Mike continued, and Will felt strange to think that he didn't think of Richie as Not-Mike anymore. Richie was Richie, and Mike was Mike. They were two completely different people. But hearing Mike's voice saying that word made Will's stomach churn. "You know that you'll never have me. You know that you'll always be afraid...."

Not-Mike was right in front of him now, and this was when Will began to notice the change in his eyes. It had gone from completely black to some sort of murky yellow, the distorted dark pupils now standing out. It was almost as if his eyes were glowing. 

He also didn't miss the way one eye was drifting to the side slightly, while the other stayed fixed on his. Will felt extremely uncomfortable under the stare, wincing at the burn in his wrists. He was sweaty, bloody, and all he wanted was to be back at home with his Mother and Jonathan. Had they even noticed he was gone? How long as he been gone for? Did Mike and the others know he was gone? Did the whole town know that he was missing yet again?

Everything inside him was beginning to feel empty. He was terrified, staring into those orange eyes of the demon possessing his friend's, and crush's, face, just wanting for the ground to open up and swallow him. Anything would be better than here, in this empty space, with some child eating demon.

He still didn't know if he had heard right.

"Oh, so much like little Eds. Small, terrified, queer." Not-Mike went on, stepping closer and bending down. "So, so terrified. I would eat you right up if I could. But master won't allow that, will he? Master wants you all to itself. Pennywise give him Willy, Master gives Pennywise Richie."

Will just stared, backing into the pole he was restrained on in attempt to get away from the thing. He barely even noticed the pale colour takin over Not-Mike's skin, and the cherry red liquid moving down his cheeks like large, long tears. He barely noticed the brown hair becoming vibrant orange, he barely noticed the clothes changing. He couldn't move, he was too overwhelmed. He couldn't do anything.

"Or, has Pennywise already got him?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, i'm sorry.
> 
> i literally have nothing else to say but sorry. i'm trying, but it's not working.
> 
> also, really jack grazer? really? wyd bro 
> 
> anyways, comment anything! criticism, thoughts, suggestions, anything!


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